“If a priest learns about a murder or a possible murder, I believe there’s a way for him to get around that,” Quinn told him.
“But I didn’t learn about a murder,” Father Ryan said.
“What if I guess?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know. Okay, I didn’t hear about a murder or a proposed murder, but I think it would be a good thing if you started hanging around with the B-Street Bombers again.”
“You saw one of them today?” Quinn said.
“I can’t answer that,” Ryan said.
Quinn looked up. Natasha was coming down the street. He and Father Ryan both fell silent. She arched her brows questioningly as she reached them.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “There wasn’t another— I mean, everyone is all right, yes?”
“Everyone is fine, Natasha,” Quinn told her.
“Maybe the killer’s lying low,” Father Ryan said. “Letting the fear die down. He sees the news. He knows the city is on the alert.”
“That’s true. Did you learn that today?” Quinn asked him.
“No, pure conjecture on my part. I can tell you that much.”
“Aha!” Natasha said. “Father Ryan is trying to tell you something he’s not supposed to.”
They were standing just to the side of the entrance to The Cheshire Cat. They heard the tinkle of the bell as the door opened and Danni stepped out.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Natasha laughed softly. “Father Ryan is wrestling with his conscience.”
“Oh, someone went to confession,” Danni said.
“Seems to be the case,” Quinn agreed, smiling as he looked at her but wincing inwardly. He loved her. And she was becoming her father, dedicated to solving strange mysteries and saving lives. It was so different working with her, though. Quinn had spent most of the time with Angus more worried about coming out alive himself, rather than worrying about Angus. He’d been a hell of a highlander, massively muscled, a tall man, as sturdy as the rugged cliffs of the highlands himself.
Whereas with Danni...
He was so in love with her. It was impossible to work on the kinds of cases they handled and not be worried about her. And yet, he couldn’t change things. She’d inherited not only the shop but Angus’s mission and passion, as well.
He remembered one of his mom’s magazines that had a monthly article called “Can this marriage be saved?” He wondered what they would think if he wrote in and asked the “experts” about him and Danni. The love of my life inherited a calling to solve crimes with paranormal undertones. Oh, yeah, and I died on the operating table but was brought back to life, and ever since I’ve had a similar calling. The problem is, I’m always afraid something’s going to happen to her, and I wish she was somewhere safe and not in harm’s way...
“I bet Shamus was in to see him,” Danni said. “Nice Irish boy, likely to be Catholic. And since we’ve just learned that Gus owns a Glock 19 that might have fired the 9 millimeter rounds during the robbery, I’m guessing he went to confession because he’s worried about something his bandmate said or did, so now he wonders if Gus might have something to do with the murders.”
As she spoke, Father Ryan turned and started walking away.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Natasha called after him.
“For a drink! Even a priest is allowed a drink now and then.”
“Wait up—I’ll join you,” Natasha said, and hurried after him.
Quinn was left to look at Danni with a combination of amazement and amusement. “I think he’s feeling torn now,” he told her.
“But he did the right thing, and he didn’t really say anything,” she said, smiling. Then she frowned. “Could it really be Gus?”
“It could be anyone,” he said gently. “But we have to follow whatever leads we get, Danni. This killer has to be stopped.”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said softly.
She was so beautiful, he thought. Auburn hair flowing around her shoulders, blue eyes crystal clear as they met his.
He didn’t need to write to anyone about Danni. He loved her. What he had to do was learn to let her stand on her own, to take on the role she had been born for.
“It’s almost time to go. I thought we’d drive Brad and Jenny down to Magazine Street. Larue will have a man watching over them tonight,” he said.
“Ready when you are,” she told him.
And she was. She looked great. She could front any band, he thought. She was striking in dark leggings and a leather jacket.
Hot, he thought.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked him.
“The idea that I’m going to be at La Porte Rouge tonight.”
“That’s not news. So...?”
“I’m just glad,” he told her. “That’s all.”
*
It was almost time to be at work. What he was doing was definitely dangerous, but then, desperate times called for desperate measures.