Breakwater (Cold Ridge/U.S. Marshals #5)

McCabe-what the devil are you doing?

The woman didn’t even know his real name. But she didn’t move from the threshold of her cute little cottage, and he didn’t resist anymore. He kissed her softly, and his mouth must have felt burning hot against hers. She held on to his upper arm, and when he forced himself to pull away, he saw that some color had returned to her face. He touched his thumb to the pink in her cheek. “I’ll have to remember how best to warm you up. Never mind the ratty old fleece.”

She dropped her hand, clearing her throat, more color rising to her cheeks. “I guess it’s been a weird couple of days for both of us.”

“You can trust me. Remember that, okay?”

She just stared at him.

Before he went any further, Huck returned to his Rover and got back on the road, hoping Quinn would heed all sensible advice and resume her normal activities back in Washington. He had a job to do, and she was one hell of a distraction.





19




Alicia Miller’s death had cast a dark shadow over her unit at the Department of Justice. Gerard Lattimore could feel the despair of her grieving colleagues. For weeks, they’d watched her struggle emotionally, casting about for balance, pushing herself to be positive. For a brief window a couple of weeks ago, she’d seemed to pull herself together and was almost happy. By late last week, she was clearly falling apart.

And I did nothing, Gerard thought.

He stood at Steve Eisenhardt’s cubicle. Steve was among those having the most difficulty coping with Alicia’s death. “How’re you holding up?” Gerard asked.

“I’m managing.”

“I don’t know what to say-”

“There’s nothing to say.” Eisenhardt, who hadn’t even glanced at his boss, tapped on his keyboard. “It was a terrible accident. Alicia-she deserved better.”

“Her family’s handling arrangements. They want to keep everything quiet, private. There’s been talk of holding a small memorial service here-”

“I’ll say goodbye in my own way.”

Prickly. Gerard nodded. “We all will.”

Eisenhardt swiveled his chair around, looking up now, his eyes sunken, as if he hadn’t slept since he’d heard the news about his colleague-and friend. Perhaps, in his own mind, at least, Gerard thought, more than a friend.

“Steve-get some rest. Go home early if you need to.”

“Thanks, but I can do my job. It helps. You know-Alicia never was right for this place.”

Gerard didn’t argue with him.

“She was beautiful and well connected, but she didn’t belong.” He swiveled back to his monitor, his tone accusatory as he continued. “Maybe I noticed because I’m new.”

“She wasn’t one to confide in anyone-”

“I saw what was happening. I didn’t say anything.” His look turned into an accusatory glare. “Doesn’t Justice have protocols for handling someone who’s obviously falling apart? If we’d all done something-said something-Alicia might still be alive.”

“We all did the best we could, Steve. We’ll probably never know for certain what was going on in her mind. You’re talking as if she committed suicide. We don’t know-”

“Kayaking in a thunderstorm is suicide, period.”

“I understand how you feel. If there’s anything I can do-if you want to talk-”

“What about Quinn?” His tone had lost some of its edge. “Do you know where she is?”

“On her way back to Washington, I imagine.”

“She’ll push for answers, won’t she? I don’t know her all that well, but she strikes me as the type not to be satisfied with surface answers.”

Gerard sighed, regretting his gesture of sympathy. Steve Eisenhardt had his own way of thinking-he didn’t make life easy for himself. “I don’t know what Quinn will do.”

“Your friend Oliver Crawford-he can’t like having a body wash up onshore practically on his doorstep down there. Alicia said she’d met him. You don’t think Quinn will blame him for anything, do you?”

“Blame him for what, Steve? He and Alicia only met each other a month ago. Oliver’s a busy man-”

Steve was barely listening. “Think Quinn knows anything about his kidnapping over the winter?”

Gerard frowned. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry.” He smiled feebly, looking awkward. “I can’t focus right now.”

“I understand.” Gerard had no intention of pursuing Steve’s crazy line of thinking regarding any connection, even a professional one, between Quinn and Oliver’s kidnapping. Eisenhardt was in no shape to make coherent judgments. “At least give yourself today before you try to work on anything important. We all need some time.”