“I don’t mean to make him sound crass-”
“A guy in his position, with his ambitions, needs to be strategic about who he lets himself fall for.” Huck winked at her. “Unlike those of us who exercise no sense whatsoever.”
“And which describes you? Are you the strategic type or the no-sense type?”
“Me? I’m not supposed to be falling for anyone, for any reason, strategic or stupid.” He started back along the dock with her, the cool night air or the lights-he couldn’t tell which-turning Quinn’s lips blue. “And you?”
“None of the above.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t want to be strategic or stupid. I just want to fall in love.” She looked at him, her directness, her bright smile, catching him off guard. “I do try to stay away from heartbreakers.”
“I can’t see anyone wanting to break your heart, Quinn.”
Although she must have heard him, she pretended not to, shooting out ahead of him. “The restaurant will be closing soon,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “We should get a table.”
Once they were inside the small restaurant, a middle-aged man Quinn knew by name showed them to a table overlooking the water, with blue cloth napkins, fresh daisies in a flowered vase and a white votive candle flickering in a clear-glass holder.
Quinn ordered wine with her crab cakes, but Huck stayed away from alcohol. Gun or no gun, he wasn’t drinking tonight.
Across the room, Joe Riccardi was drinking alone at the bar, no sign of his wife or their mutual boss, or any of his Breakwater crew. He carried his drink over to their table. “I thought I saw you head out earlier, Boone.” He nodded politely at Quinn. “Nice to see you, Ms. Harlowe.”
“You, too, Colonel Riccardi,” she said smoothly. “Huck’s keeping me from getting stuck having dinner alone.”
“I understand Mr. Crawford invited you to the open house tomorrow.” Riccardi spoke in his usual neutral tone. “I’d be glad to give you a personal tour of our training facility.”
In other words, Huck thought, no sneaking around. Quinn didn’t seem to take offense. “Thanks.”
“We want to be as open as possible about what we’re doing.” Riccardi sipped his drink, an amber-colored liquid. “We don’t want people creating fantasies about what we do.”
“Not even good fantasies?”
Riccardi smiled at her, but not warmly. “We play by the rules.”
“Whose rules?” She gave him a sharp look. “Oliver Crawford isn’t known for his patience. He’s known for pushing himself and everyone else. I’ll bet he wants a state-of-the-art, high-quality security firm up and running with the snap of his fingers.”
“He understands the importance of laying the proper foundation. We’re dealing with people’s safety. Their lives. Integrity and competence matter in this business more than all the bells and whistles.” Riccardi’s gaze bore into Quinn, but she didn’t flinch. “I didn’t realize you knew Mr. Crawford that well.”
“We’re neighbors, more or less.” She raised her water glass. “I’ve been doing a little research on my own, talking to my contacts, checking the public record. Makes sense, doesn’t it? I just found a friend dead under unusual, if not criminal, circumstances. If you were in my position, wouldn’t you look into the people who’d seen her last?”
And she says she doesn’t like playing with fire. Huck debated hauling her out of there and dumping her with Diego.
Riccardi polished off the last of his drink. “From what I understand, Ms. Harlowe, that would be you.”
She didn’t give up. “Whoever picked her up in the black sedan saw her after I did. I wouldn’t be surprised if we all traipsed out to Ollie’s place in the suburbs, we’d find shiny black Lincoln Town Cars-”
Huck broke in. “Drink’s on me, Joe. I’ll see you back at Breakwater.”
Riccardi set his empty glass on the table, muttered a good-night and stalked out of the restaurant.
“He seems lonely,” Quinn said, unrepentant.
Huck shook his head at her. “You’re a pain in the ass, Harlowe. If he’d decided to throttle you, I’d have helped him.”
She shrugged. “I’m sure that would have enhanced your reputation with your Breakwater buddies.”
“You had to let him know you’ve been doing your homework on them, didn’t you?”
Her wine arrived. When she picked up her glass, Huck saw the spots of pink in her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. She’d stayed cool, but she wasn’t unaffected by her encounter with his retired army colonel boss.