She shrugged. “I suppose that’s better than breathing a sigh of relief that I quit.”
“Why did you quit?”
“Flexibility, opportunity, the chance to be my own boss.” She smiled. “I had illusions of having a life.”
They stopped at a spot along the dock where there were no boats, the water black under the night sky, reflecting here and there the gleam of lights from boats and the rustic restaurant. A variety of pleasure boats and fishing boats bobbed in the low tide.
A quiet night in Yorkville, Huck thought.
Quinn stood next to him. Her hair seemed blacker, her skin paler, almost translucent, but her eyes had taken on some of the darkness around her. “Lattimore doesn’t know anything about you, does he?” she asked.
“The fewer people who know about me, the better I like it.”
“I’m not going to give you away. I can be discreet.”
Huck let her comment go. After dancing and nearly making love in her cottage, he figured neither of them could claim discretion.
“I was still at Justice when Oliver Crawford was kidnapped,” she went on quietly.
“Lattimore must have gone apeshit.”
“It was a tense time. I left not long after Crawford was rescued. The FBI was investigating-I assume they still are.” She looked back out at the water. “They must have briefed you.”
“Quinn-”
“I’m not asking. I’m just saying.” She paused, squinting down the dock, toward the marina, then touched Huck’s wrist. “That’s Lattimore there.”
Huck, who’d only seen pictures of the deputy assistant AG, saw a good-looking, gray-haired man in a dark suit get out of a Breakwater SUV and shut the door, waving to the driver. The SUV backed out. Vern? Lubec? One of the Riccardis? Perhaps Oliver Crawford himself, Huck thought, watching Lattimore, caught in a dim streetlight, spot Quinn and smile, then join them out on the dock.
“Hello, Quinn.” He nodded to Huck. “Who’s your friend?”
Before she could answer, Huck said, “Huck Boone, sir. I work at Breakwater Security.”
“Huck was on a run when I found Alicia,” Quinn said, then introduced him. “Huck, this is Gerard Lattimore, my former boss at the Justice Department.”
“Good to meet you,” Lattimore said, shaking hands with Huck. “I’m sorry you and Quinn met under such difficult circumstances. We’re all still grappling with the tragedy. Alicia was a wonderful person, a very talented attorney.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Huck said.
He nodded his thanks, but said nothing.
Quinn deftly changed the subject. “Was that a Breakwater SUV? Were you out there?”
“Only for a few minutes. Ollie offered me a lift from Washington aboard one of his helicopters. He’d gone on ahead of me, but a few of his people were still in town. I just got here-a couple of Ollie’s meats dropped me off.” He sputtered into embarrassed laughter. “Boone, sorry. I didn’t mean to impugn the work you do. I’ve been in situations where I’ve required a private protective detail, and it’s very comforting to know how well trained you people are.”
“No offense taken,” Huck said.
“I’m afraid I shouldn’t have had that one drink with Ollie. It went right to my head.”
“How will you get back to Washington?” Quinn asked her former boss.
“Same way. Helicopter.” He recovered himself somewhat. “I didn’t use to like helicopters, but when you sail above snarled Beltway traffic-suddenly you don’t think it’s such a bad way to travel. Not that I’m in Ollie’s league when it comes to private helicopters ferrying me around. I’m just a government employee.”
“Huck and I are on our way to dinner. Would you care to join us?”
“Oh, thanks, but no-please, don’t let me keep you.” Lattimore made a broad gesture toward his boat. “I’m going to settle in for the rest of the evening. Enjoy yourselves. Boone-I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure you will.”
“Ollie’s first social event since he was kidnapped, you know.”
Huck nodded. “So I’ve been told.”
But Lattimore turned his attention back to Quinn, started to say something, then abandoned the effort and, without another word, headed for his boat. He wasn’t staggering, but he was obviously not entirely sober, either.
“Guess he’s had a long day,” Huck said. “I’ll say it again-I think he has a crush on you. Threw him to see you out here with me.”
Quinn scowled at him. “That’s ridiculous. Gerard’s only recently divorced-”
“Gerard, huh?”
“Oh, stop.” But she smiled. “You’re not even that funny, you know.”
“I’m very funny.”
“Well, Gerard is obviously under a lot of stress. I’m sure he’s hardly even thought about dating again, never mind striking up any kind of relationship with me. I have an interesting family background, but the Harlowes have always been more eccentric than well connected.”
“Seeing you wouldn’t do him any good.”