Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Dahlia was beside herself. The fear was a living, breathing fire on the back of her neck. Her home and motorcycle had been vandalized in broad daylight. Her grandfather had commissioned that seat for her, damn it. Back when her mom had argued incessantly that a sensible car was the smarter investment. Now it was destroyed, and for what?
She couldn’t get the images out of her head, couldn’t stop reliving that immediate visceral reaction. The weakness was dragging her down like a rip current. Her breath kept backing up in her lungs, dread pooling in her gut, making it hard to think clearly.
In the water, she’d be looking for the sunlight, striving to reach it. Out here on the Parkman ranch, she couldn’t find a focal point.
“Breathe, Dahlia,” Emery instructed in that no-nonsense tone. “In and out. It’ll be fine.”
Flint had driven straight to the cabin where Hawk had put them up for the duration of their stay. It definitely qualified as a secure location.
Why didn’t that make her feel better?
She was sitting on the small porch with her friend. Two friends, really. Flint was with Emery. They were good together, good for each other. Dahlia had been delighted to see Emery’s happiness grow as her relationship with Flint deepened day by day. Somehow Flint had blended in seamlessly with their lives.
She was grateful. Truly.
One of them had pushed a glass of water into her hand and she’d dutifully soothed her dry throat. But no matter how kind, comforting, and distracting Flint and Emery were, Dahlia kept reliving the situation at her place.
Cops were combing through her property. Assessing, canvassing, all the useful things cops did, according to Emery.
“How much longer?” she wondered, checking her phone. Time seemed to have slowed to a snail’s pace. She had taken a call from Cassie and another one from Hawk. Somehow Cassie arranged for her to speak with the police with an attorney over a video call.
It was better than going into the station, but it was still strange.
“The police found a stack of counterfeit twenties in my carport,” she muttered, not for the first time. It didn’t make any sense.
“The lawyers have that under control. Let them handle it,” Flint advised quietly.
Right. Gamble and Swann, two attorneys based in Chicago she’d never heard of, assured her she was not a suspect. Her role was to relax and wait for an update.
She wasn’t good at relaxing or waiting.
Emery patted her arm. “The authorities will find Steen and any associates here on the island.”
Dahlia wanted to believe her.
Considering Steen’s lengthy record, he shouldn’t be that hard to locate. Then again, an established criminal obviously had his methods to avoid getting caught. Apparently, his methods included harassing innocent, observant bartenders.
“Why plant the money at my place?” she asked. “I don’t understand.” A known criminal passing funny money had visited the places she worked as well as her home. Finding her couldn’t have been too challenging, but why bother?
Behind her, the screen door squeaked open and slapped closed again. “Quinn says they’re nearly done,” Flint said.
She checked her phone, but didn’t see any missed calls or texts. Had something else happened?
“For reasons that confound me,” Flint continued, “he’s giving you a choice about staying at your place or elsewhere.”
Elsewhere was her immediate reaction. She just didn’t know where exactly elsewhere would be. Would Quinn be with her? It was shocking how desperately she wanted to see him again.
“Hawk probably has an open cabin,” Emery suggested. “Or you could stay with one of us.”
Dahlia knew any of her three friends would let her stay. It seemed like a good idea until she thought about Steen finding her and potentially damaging their property.
“Thanks,” Dahlia said.
It was a generous offer and Emery meant it from the bottom of her heart. But if she stayed with Mia, Moana, or Emery, she’d be a third wheel. Those relationships were new and didn’t need the pressure of a displaced friend.
She turned her attention to Flint. “Why does having a choice confound you?”
His gaze slid to Emery and back. “Your home was attacked,” he stated. “It seems silly to stay there. Why risk being around if whoever did it comes back?”
She assumed that meant he didn’t like Quinn choosing to stay in a dangerous situation. He had a point. She probably was putting too much faith in one man to stand between her and all the possible risks in her life right now.
“Emery, what would you do?” If anyone knew how to keep cool and calm, it was Emery.
“Do you honestly think you can sleep there tonight?” she asked.
“Probably not. But we had a plan,” Dahlia said. The argument was weak. “Plans change, I know. I was…”
“You were looking forward to it,” Emery finished when her voice trailed off. “Was it a sexy plan?” She bobbed her eyebrows.
“Not… specifically.” Although she’d been hoping for more than hot kisses tonight. Maybe her feelings were a combination of adrenaline and shock. No. She wouldn’t look for excuses. That wasn’t fair to either of them. Because she’d been curious— interested —in Quinn for weeks. Letting Steen or whoever trashed her property steal her limited time with Quinn was out of the question. That would be awful. She didn’t want regrets.
Of course, she’d regret it if he got hurt while protecting her.
“Dahlia?” Emery took her glass away and squeezed her hands. “Talk to me.”
She swallowed. “Before the break-in derailed everything, we were planning to drive around the island today.”
“Not a bad plan for your day off.”
Flint nodded, agreeing with Emery.
“Then Mom’s meatloaf for dinner.”
“You were taking him to meet your parents?” Emery reared back and gaped at her.
Dahlia probably should’ve been offended by the reaction, except Emery knew all about the recent push from her parents to settle down. Marriage, kids, the whole deal. Taking Quinn to see them would be a crazy move. She wouldn’t mention it in front of Flint, though it was a safe bet Emery would fill him in later. “No. The freezer stock.”
“Oh. That makes more sense.” Emery turned to Flint, as if suddenly remembering he was present. “Her mom makes amazing meatloaf. And, um, Dahlia doesn’t share it with just anyone.”
“You make me sound like a hoarder,” Dahlia complained.
“If the freezer meatloaf fits.” Emery shrugged.
Dahlia laughed, embracing something other than fear and turmoil.
“Why not bring the meatloaf to Quinn’s cabin?” Emery suggested. “Can’t get much safer than here at the ranch.”
“That’s the common sense I expected out of Quinn,” Flint said.
It seemed insensitive to invade his privacy that way. Dahlia was about to argue when her phone started chiming with a flurry of alerts. “What the…”
They were all from Quinn. He’d sent half a dozen pictures. The back of her house looked as good as new. The scrawling message in red spray paint was gone. There was a video showing her gate, repaired, complete with a new latch and additional security camera. Photos of the carport showed everything picked up and put neatly on the shelves. Items that couldn’t be salvaged were thrown out, but he’d documented the damage.
For her insurance company, she assumed. Another security camera was tucked up in a corner of the carport, out of sight from the driveway. The improvements were subtle, which was better, in her opinion. She was happier knowing every angle on her property was covered. If the people who broke in came back, they would be seen.
“Look!” She turned the phone to share with Emery and Flint. “I don’t believe this. He cleaned up everything. He fixed everything.”
“You don’t sound happy,” Flint said. “Is that a problem?”
“No, of course not,” Dahlia said. “I just didn’t realize. How?” She paused, trying to make sense of the effort he was putting in on her behalf. “I’ve been planning who to call and how to get it done and he just… did it.”
“You’re not used to having someone handle things.” Emery leaned close and in a stage whisper said, “It’s kind of what they do.”
“Ha. Ha.” Flint folded his arms, clearly unamused.
“It’s true,” Emery defended her statement.
Dahlia was still stunned by everything Quinn had accomplished. “I figured I’d call my brothers.” And she would’ve been hard pressed to explain the vandalism.
“Now you don’t have to,” Flint said. “Chalk it up as a good deed and take pity on the man. Say thank you and tell him where you want to have dinner.”
“You’re right. I’ll give him a call.”
Emery hooked her arm through Flint’s. “We’ll give you some privacy.”
They walked off, leaving her on the porch. She tapped the phone icon and waited for the call to go through. “Thank you,” she said as soon as he answered. “You didn’t have to do all that work.”
“I really did,” he countered. “Besides, Carter and Bowie helped.”
She owed them all a round of drinks. “Tell them thank you for me.”
“I’ll do that,” Quinn said. He sounded happy, as if today had gone perfectly, while she thought of it as an utter disaster. “We’ve got a couple small things to wrap up,” he said.
Her only other concern was the motorcycle seat, but he couldn’t do anything about that. “And then what?” she asked.
“That depends. Do you want to come back to your place for the night?”
A panic in her chest shamed her. She bit back the immediate protest and asked, “Do you think whoever did this will be back?” He hesitated and she felt bad for putting him on the spot with a question he wasn’t qualified to answer. “What did the police say?”
“Nothing definitive.” He sounded less than thrilled about that. “Unfortunately, anything’s possible until we figure out why they’re being so damn persistent in following you.”
A chill danced over her skin, despite the warmth of the sun. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to sort that out too. At least I’m not headed to jail for counterfeiting.”
Quinn barked out a short laugh. “Would you be all right if I brought dinner to you? The meatloaf or something else. Your call. We could eat at my place on the ranch.”
“That sounds like the safest option,” she admitted. Hawk made his living managing security. No one got onto the property without being cleared.
“But is it what you want?” His tone was pure steel. Not unkind, but absolutely unyielding. “I can keep you safe wherever you want to be.”
She believed him and that meant more than she could say. “Even in jail for counterfeiting?” she teased. “Though that’s not where I want to be.”
“Wherever you are,” he reiterated. “Count on me, Dahlia.”
Yes! That voice in her head was spinning pirouettes. Something in the way he said those words wrapped around her and made her feel… Cared for. Valued. Protected. “Thank you,” she murmured, overwhelmed by the man and the day. “Here is good.”
“All right.” He sounded relieved. “I don’t want to be pushy or make things awkward. I can pack a bag for you and bring it along.”
Her brain scrambled at the image of him going through her closet, dresser, even her bathroom. That was taking a big leap way too soon, in her opinion, crisis or not. “Cassie did offer me a room at the resort,” she said. “Y’know, in case you don’t want to keep rolling down this road as my protector.”
“Dahlia.” He paused and she imagined him raking a hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “Your house, my cabin, or the resort. I’m not bailing. Wherever you choose, I’m there with you. That won’t change.”
She chewed on her lip. How did she get lucky enough that this man was concerned for her welfare? The sun was dropping in the western sky and at last the serenity of the ranch was taking effect on her overwrought senses. Pathetic as it felt, she didn’t have the energy to go home, pack, and come back. Especially since her motorcycle was out of commission.
Emery was right, even with the new cameras Dahlia didn’t really feel comfortable about going home. “Am I being a chicken to not want to stay in my own house?” She blurted out the question. “I feel like that’s being a chicken.”
“No,” Quinn said. “You’re being a scaredy cat. Two different things.”
She did a double take and then laughed. “Would you have said that to my face?”
“Probably not.” The humor in his voice soothed her, way down deep. “I would’ve given you a hug instead.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t known her heart could melt more. This man.
“Listen, ah, Bowie volunteered Moana to come over and pack up some things for you. Would that be better?”
“Yes, please.” She really had the best friends in the world. She would be doling out hugs and free drinks for a week after today. “Have her do that. If you’re sure it’s not an imposition, let’s just stay out here at your cabin. At least for tonight.”
“Consider it done,” he promised. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
She was so grateful. “Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“If there’s enough meatloaf in the freezer, we could just invite everyone.” Too late, she realized she’d just suggested a dinner party for eight at his cabin. Talk about overreaching. Glancing over her shoulder, she knew there was no way they’d all fit into the small space. It would be pushing the limit for two of them. “On second thought?—”
“That’s a great idea,” he said over her attempt to backpedal.
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll let the others know.”
“But—”
“See you soon.”
She stared at her phone, dumbfounded that he’d basically let her steamroll him. Or was it the other way around? Uncertain about his eagerness, she left the porch to stretch her legs and catch up with Flint and Emery.