Quinn slipped into the silky champagne dress. At least it still fit, although she didn’t remember the neckline having such a deep V.
The silk brocade of her 1930s shawl reminded her of the blues of the bay, with a thread of champagne that matched her dress. She wrapped it over her bare shoulders, its long fringe tickling her arms, and spun out into the living room, pretending she had nothing more serious on her mind than an upper-crust open house in a beautiful bayside location.
She didn’t think about armed bodyguards and undercover federal agents and kidnapping survivors and a troubled friend who was dead.
Opening her porch door, she welcomed the fresh breeze coming in through the screen, the smell of the water-and more than a hint of lilac. She put aside her questions and her ghosts, her fears, and danced barefoot out to the kitchen.
When she danced back into the living room, she stopped abruptly, noticing a figure in the doorway, and recognized Huck Boone/McCabe just in time to stifle a startled yell.
He wore a work shirt and jeans, and he shook his head at her. “You must have nerves of steel, Harlowe, dancing by yourself out here in a skimpy cocktail dress, your front door wide open.”
“My dress is not skimpy, and my door-I was letting in the evening air.” The shawl fell off her shoulders, landing in the crook of her arms. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Not long enough.” He smiled. “I was hoping you’d do a couple dips before you saw me.”
“No dips. I’m not that good a dancer.”
He made no move to come inside. “You’re not that bad, either.”
She took a breath, her heart pounding from exertion and the start he’d given her, showing up on her front porch. “What are you doing here?”
“I was driving past and saw your door open. Thought I’d stop and say hi.”
“You didn’t walk-”
“I’m in my Rover.”
“It’s a dead-end road.”
He shrugged. “I needed to turn around.”
Quinn stood on the other side of the screen door, giving him a skeptical look, but she noticed that nothing about him was relaxed. The humor-the irreverence-was just a facade. But she tried not to react, and said, “I think you’re checking up on me.”
“Do you?”
“Did you follow me here?”
“If I did, you’d never know it.”
She managed a smile. “Cocky, aren’t you?”
“You’re in your own little world here. You’re not even playing music, but you didn’t hear me walk up onto your porch.” He tapped the screen, in front of her nose. “A screen door’s not much protection.”
“It’s locked.”
He just raised his eyebrows.
“I keep the doors and windows open as much as possible.” She slipped the near-useless lock on the screen door and pushed it open, stepping out onto the porch. The floorboards were cool under her bare feet. “Otherwise, I might as well stay in Washington. I like the bay breeze.”
Some of the guardedness in his eyes receded, although he didn’t relax. “Kind of cool tonight, isn’t it?”
With a rush of heat, Quinn remembered she’d tried on her dress straight from the shower and hadn’t bothered with undergarments. The filmy fabric and cold air left little to the imagination. And Huck had noticed-he couldn’t not have noticed, even if he hadn’t been trained to take in everything around him.
“Maybe it’s cool by California standards,” she said. “I think it’s gorgeous. I was just trying on my dress for the open house tomorrow-”
“You’re not going to the open house,” he said.
“No? Did Oliver Crawford rescind his invitation?”
“Quinn-”
“Because I can call him and ask.” Without giving Huck a chance to respond, she took a step back, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her breasts. “I think my outfit works okay. If it didn’t-well, then I might not go.”
His gaze drifted from her head to toes and back as he smiled. “I don’t know about the bare feet.”
“I’ve got strappy heels.”
“Ah. Thank God.”
She lifted her shawl back over her shoulders, subtly covering her breasts. “Gerard Lattimore’s going to be at the party tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”
“Your buddy Special Agent Kowalski says you like to play with fire.”
“So, you two have talked. I see.” She tried to keep her tone neutral. “And Clemente?”
“Quinn, we’ve had one body wash up onto shore-”
“I’m aware of that.” She tried to ignore the rush of images of the gulls at Alicia’s body, the sudden jolt of mixed emotions. “I think it’s best for me to do what I would normally do. If I don’t-that would just draw more attention to me.”
“You have plenty of attention on you as it is.”
“Then all the more reason for you not to interfere.”
He shook his head. “Don’t even think you can help me. You’re a historian. You might like playing with fire, but it’s not real to you-”
“Did I say I could help you? If I do something wrong, you guys in the field can get hurt. I’m aware of my responsibilities, as well as my limitations.”