In Too Deep (21 page)

“You figure he has a boat?” Dwight asked.

Quinn nodded. “Or a plane. Only two ways off the island.”

Dwight whistled. “Lily would leave her daughter?”

“No,” Quinn instantly said, the fear in his gut coalescing into a cold knot. Cal had taken Lily against her will. Quinn was as sure of that as he was of his next breath.

They stopped at the end of the road next to the marina…right beside Frank Talbot's truck. Quinn got out of his SUV. The marina had a lot of empty slips, which was usual for this time of day and this time of year. He started down the ramp, yelling for Springfield as he went.

No one answered, and he didn't see a soul. Simply boats, gently bobbing in the water, the masts and outriggers of a few boats pointed skyward. An engine rumbled to life—the distinctive rumble of a diesel engine. Quinn hit the bottom of the ramp and ran down the floating dock toward the sound, searching for the boat. There it was—Rona's fishing boat. He could see Cal and Rona inside the bridge. Where was Lily?

Movement at the stern caught his attention, and his heart stopped. Hidden from the view of anyone inside was Max…a gun in his hand.

“No!” Quinn roared. He was still yards away from the boat when it lurched away from the slip and swerved to avoid hitting another boat.

 

Five minutes before Quinn arrived at the marina, Lily awoke, her head pounding. She sat up, feeling the reverberation of a motor.

Rona stood at the wheel, her expression grim as she checked gauges and made various adjustments.

Confused and not at all understanding why she was on a
boat, Lily looked around and discovered that she was sitting on the long bench that lined the port-side wall.

“Rona.” Her voice came out as a sandy croak. “What—”

“Don't talk.” Cal seemed to appear from nowhere and eased her back down on the bench, his hands firm, his voice grim. “Save your strength.”

What the heck was he doing here? He looked strange to her. She was used to him being in one of those conservative suits that shouted, “I'm a federal law enforcement agent,” instead of jeans that looked brand-new and a jacket splattered with blood.

Blood…and it all flooded back. Will lying on the floor—dead. Her throat closed, and she felt the bile and fear rise, vibrating through her like the rumble of the boat engines. Explosion. There'd been an explosion.

She shook, the most awful fear drowning her. She stood again, pushing away Cal's hands. “I've got to get back. Annmarie is there and Quinn.”

“There's nothing you can do.”

“No!” She pushed at him. “Let me go.”

“They're dead,” Cal said. When she froze in complete disbelief and horror, he repeated, “They're dead.”

“No!” She hit at him. “Don't say that.”

At the same time Rona was asking, “You know that for sure?”

“I'm sure,” he said. “You're going to a safe house, Lily.”

“No!” Grief pounded through her, battering her. When she had imagined going into witness security it was to protect her daughter, to keep anyone else from being hurt or killed. If her daughter was dead, she had nothing to live for. No reason to go on. “I'm not going.”

He shook her. “Yes, Lily, you are. Right now.”

“If she doesn't want to go…” Rona was saying.

“I don't. I've got to see my little girl.” The tears erupted. “And Quinn!” Pain doubled her over and she wailed, the cry wrenched through her broken heart.

“That's it,” Rona said, shutting off the ignition. “I'm not
going anywhere. She doesn't want to go, and I'm not taking her.” The cabin became abruptly quiet.

A gun—that same lethal-looking gun—appeared in Cal's hand. “We are leaving, and right now.” He waved the gun toward the ignition. “Start the engine.”

The hysteria that had gripped Lily washed out of her, leaving in its place a cold, odd calm.

“You're pulling a gun on Rona?” She looked into Cal's dead blue eyes. “Are you crazy?”

“She's in on the scheme with Will,” he said.

“That's ridiculous. She's my friend.”

“Friends can be bought out, Lily.”

She stared at him, awful conclusions surfacing. “Not Rona.” She swallowed. “You. You're the ‘friend' who was bought.”

The expression in his eyes got even flatter, and the gun was turned on her. The calm in her center froze. If Quinn and Annmarie were really dead, what did she have to live for? She'd buried her husband, and if she had to bury her daughter and Quinn, she wasn't sure she had any reason to live.
Except for the baby.
She pressed her hand against her stomach, protecting the fragile life that she wasn't even sure was really there.

She looked at Rona. She didn't deserve this. Rona caught her eye and shrugged. Lily didn't believe that gesture of surrender even for a second. Like her own family, Rona's were fishermen—resilient, determined men and women who overcame tough odds every single day.

“It was you all along?” Lily said to Cal. She didn't even care, but her thoughts raced, searching for some way to get them out of this mess.

He shook his head. “No. I'm here to clean up the shambles Will made of things.”

“Not a bad ruse,” Lily said. “Coming to tell me there's a contract on my life when you're the one sent to do the job. How much does it take to buy a U.S. Marshal?”

Ignoring the question, he shoved her toward the bench.
“Sit down.” He waved the gun toward Rona. “Start the damn engine. No more stalling.”

“You're the one who beat Patrick?” Lily asked.

“Dumb-ass kid who wanted to come clean. Come on, Rona. Let's go.”

Lily pressed a hand against her head, trying to think everything through.

“Why didn't you kill me at the lab?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Oh, Lily. I tried. Only you didn't stay put. You were supposed to die in the explosion, so I couldn't leave you behind to tell anyone that you knew I'd killed Will.” He waved the gun toward Rona again. “Let's go.”

The engine rumbled to life. Lily's gaze lit on the fire extinguisher strapped to the wall. She looked at Rona, who nodded ever so slightly. Lily moved to the corner, bracing herself and putting herself within arm's reach of the bright red canister.

Rona jammed the throttle forward. The boat shot away from the slip, then turned sharply starboard to avoid another vessel.

Cal lost his balance and crashed against the rear of the cabin. Lily ripped the fire extinguisher from the wall, yanked out the pin, and aimed the nozzle toward him.

“Drop it!” His extended arms pointed the gun toward her.

Within that instant, her daughter's face was in front of her, her daughter who he'd said was dead—the daughter he'd killed. Lily's chest tightened, the thought stabbing her. “No!” she screamed, and squeezed the handle.

Foam arced toward his contorted face, and the gun discharged.

The pain was so great in her chest, she was sure he'd shot her. But it no longer mattered, and she rushed toward him, aiming the spray at his face.

He knocked the canister from her hands.

The door crashed open and Max charged in.

“Get out of the way, Lily,” Max roared, bracing a gun against the cast of his raised arm.

The boat swung port and Lily lost her balance and crashed into the bench. Max and Cal fired at each other at the same instant. Somehow, Max was on the floor, too. The two men scrambled across the floor, cursing and fighting and grunting. There was another shot and it was quiet.

No more shouts, no more struggling.

Rona eased on the throttle and brought the boat back toward the dock in a smooth curve.

Lily stared at the two men on the floor. Cal's death wasn't as tidy as Will's. She didn't even recognize him as the man to whom she had once entrusted her life. Tears blurred her vision, tears she was sure would never stop if Cal was right and her Annmarie was… Her throat closed.

The boat bounced as though someone had jumped on board. Quinn burst through the door. He looked awful, his eyes red-rimmed, soot and mud ground into his face and his clothes. He looked wonderful, solid and strong…and alive!

Lily threw herself into his arms. His closed convulsively around her and he lifted her off her feet.

“Annmarie—”

“She's okay,” he said, repeating the words again and again as though he understood how much she needed to hear them. Shuddering with relief, she held on tight to him. On the heels of her relief, a certainty coursed through her as it had the very first day she met him.
He's the one.

She became aware of him moving her out of the way, and then of others boarding the boat. Dwight and Hilda and others from the village. Friends and neighbors who were always there when the going got tough.

Quinn was carrying her out of the bridge when Hilda stopped them. “Max is still alive,” she said, “and he wants to talk to you.”

“I don't want to talk to him,” Quinn said.

“He's dying,” Hilda said.

Reluctantly, Quinn set Lily down. He knelt over Max, who
had scared a couple of decades off his life. Lily knelt on the other side of him.

Max gripped his hand with surprising strength. “Listen to the news,” he said. “Lily's safe. It's over.”

Quinn stared down at the man, not knowing what to believe. A few feet away someone had covered Cal's body.

To Quinn's surprise, Lily picked up Max's hand and brought it to her lips, tears once again in her eyes. “Thank you for saving my life,” she said.

“Tell Dahlia…I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice trailing off. “I never wanted to kidnap her.”

“That was you?” Shock laced Lily's voice. Quinn realized there was yet another part to this story that he didn't know.

“Yes,” Max whispered.

Quinn looked sharply at Lily, then down at the man who smiled as the light faded from his eyes.

Gently, Lily set his hand back on his chest.

“I thought he was trying to kill you,” Quinn said.

“So did I,” Hilda said.

Lily shook her head, tears once again at the surface. “No, that would have been Cal. He told me that Quinn and Annmarie were dead. That my life was still in danger, that he was taking me to a safe house. When I told him I wouldn't go, he pulled a gun and threatened us.”

When Quinn's inquiring gaze included Rona, she grinned. “We make a pretty good team. I made it impossible for him to keep his balance, and Lily took after him with the fire extinguisher.”

“I always knew I liked you,” Dwight said to Rona.

She shot him a suspicious glance. “You have a real funny way of showing it.”

“And then Max came through the door. I told you,” Lily said to Hilda, “he was one of the good guys.”

“I wonder what he meant about the news?” she asked. “And Dahlia—I don't get that.”

“Remember last spring when Ian sent Jack to be Dahlia's bodyguard?” Lily said. “After that was all over, the FBI told
her the man who had kidnapped her was a suspect in a number of assassinations. If he'd ever done a kidnapping before, they didn't know about it.”

“I doubt if we'll ever know the whole story on that one.” Hilda covered Max's face.

“I want to get Annmarie and go home,” Lily said.

“Consider it done.” Quinn took her hand and led her off the boat.

“M
r. Quinn picked me up and ran very fast,” Annmarie said a couple of hours later, concluding her story and taking a long drink of water.

Lily sipped her own water, her attention on her precious daughter. Annmarie's blond hair stood on end and her face was even dirtier than her clothes.

“And then Hilda and Mama Sara came and I went to play with Thad.” Annmarie's chin trembled, and Lily pulled her close once again. “Only I didn't want to play.”

“I'm sure Thad understood,” Lily said, looking around the kitchen, amazed at how normal it looked after everything that had happened today. Quinn stood on the other side of the room watching them, his arms folded across his chest. He was filthy, and when she looked at herself, she saw she was just as dirty.

“There are sweatpants and shirts that will probably fit you in the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers in the master bedroom,” Lily said to him, “if you want to get cleaned up.”

He nodded without saying anything.

“Or maybe you'd rather go home,” she said. “Since Cal is…there's no reason you have to stay.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Lily?” he asked, his voice soft and steely.

“No.” How could she possibly explain to the man she was simply trying to give him an out if he wanted it, needed it. “I want you to stay.”

“Good, because I am. Staying.” He came around the island, cupped the back of her head and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Go take your bath. I'll be here when you get finished.”

Lily took her daughter by the hand and led her to the master bath. “I think we need one of our special bubble baths.”

“Me, too,” Annmarie said. “With candles, too?”

“Yes.” Lily turned around and found Quinn still watching them. “This is going to take a while.”

“Okay.”

“Probably a long while.”

“Take all the time you need.”

Lily lost herself in the bath ritual over the next hour. This wasn't just about getting clean, but also about cherishing her child and making sure she knew how much she was loved.

Lily's eyes filled with tears, and she could only hope that Max was right. It was really over. In her mind's eye, Lily imagined rainbows stretching into a future that she had imagined lost to her only a few hours ago.

More than an hour later, they returned to the kitchen dressed in pajamas and bathrobes. The sun had set a while ago, leaving behind a sky and water painted in shades from mauve to purple. Quinn stood in front of the window, tall and solid, everything she wanted for the rest of her life.

Annmarie skipped toward Quinn, who had showered and dressed in sweatpants and a black T-shirt that emphasized the breadth of his chest and the heavy rope of muscle in his arms.

He's the one.
Thinking of the things she had to confess to
him, she worried about his reaction. She hoped she had the strength to be satisfied if he was never able to share more of himself than he had already allowed. How could he possibly know he was loved since he'd never been shown that he was? She ached for the little boy who had never been loved the way she did her daughter. Showing him he was loved—that's all she knew how to do.
What about the baby?
If there was a baby…

“See?” Annmarie sat on the floor in front of Quinn and pulled off one of the fuzzy slippers. “Mommy painted my toenails and my fingernails.” She held out her hands for his inspection.

“Very nice,” he said, his eyes warm as he gazed down at Annmarie. “Hot-pink is my favorite.”

Lily turned to the kitchen with the thought it was time to make dinner—even if tomato soup was all she was up to. The island was stacked with pots and various other containers. “My gosh, look at all the food.”

“Hilda's daughter was here, along with four of her friends. Evidently they were the emissaries sent on behalf of about half the people in town—at least, that's my guess since there's enough here to feed half the village.” He looked at Annmarie. “They're ready to adopt puppies.”

“They can't,” Annmarie said. “They're mine.”

“All of them?” Quinn asked, a smile in his voice.

“Maybe they have another home somewhere,” Lily said. The mother dog had clearly been someone's pet.

“I want to keep them, Mom.”

Lily swallowed the sudden lump in her throat that urged her to promise her daughter anything, everything. Blinking back tears, she said, “Maybe they're lost, and maybe they have their own family that we need to find.”

Quinn started to move toward her, and she shook her head. If the man held her the way she wanted right now, she'd have another bout of crying. None of them needed that.

“So,” Quinn said, “want to eat dessert first?”

“Because life is short?” Lily teased. Except, as soon as
the words were out, she knew she wasn't teasing. The idea of all that she had nearly lost today made her tremble.

Quinn reached for her and pulled her close. “I listened to the news,” he said, waiting until she looked into his eyes. “Franklin Lawrence was killed in a prison brawl last night.”

“How could Max have known that?” she whispered, her arms tightening around him.

“I don't know, but he was right. You're safe.”

She rested her head against his chest, reassured to be in his arms, even more reassured by the strong beat of his heart against her ear.

“There's something I have to tell you,” she said.

“It can wait.”

She shook her head. “It can't. Cal said he was here to take me into the witness security program.” Her throat closed, and her vision clouded. “And I trusted him, Quinn.” She swallowed and met his gaze. “And I was going to do it—leave Annmarie and you because I thought it was the only way.”

“Shh.” He pressed a finger against her lips. “It's over.”

“You don't understand. I was going to abandon my daughter and—”

“Stop.” His gaze became impossibly warm. “I know how much you love her, and I know that you'd do whatever you thought was the very best for her—including leaving her with your sister and all the others who love her.”

Disarmed, she rested her head against his chest. She listened to his heartbeat, relieved and thankful that he seemed to understand.

“There's clam chowder. Want to start with that?” he asked.

“Sure.” She moved out of his arms.

Through dinner she watched him and watched Annmarie, and she kept expecting to see the shadow cross his face, the one that often made him bolt when there was too much family, as now. And she wondered how to confess her suspicion she was pregnant—her hope that she was—without fearing
that he'd be angry…or worse, believe she had deliberately deceived him. He didn't have much to say, and if it hadn't been for Annmarie's chatter about everything that had happened over the past two days, dinner would have been a silent one.

It wasn't until they were finished eating the chocolate cake that another neighbor had provided that Quinn met her gaze. Like her, he seemed to have a lot on his mind. She kept expecting him to say that he was leaving in the next moment…or the next.

But he stayed. Through doing dishes and through the story that Annmarie made him read to her and through another discussion about which of the puppies she should keep and through the hour that marked Annmarie's bedtime.

As soon as he kissed the child goodnight, he retreated from the room, his warm gaze offering Lily reassurance.

“I hope tomorrow isn't so scary.” Annmarie snuggled deeper under the covers as Lily wound up her music box.

Lily kissed her daughter's head. “I'm sure it won't be.” Lily sat on the bed and held Annmarie's hand within her own. As always, the music box did its magic, and the child fell asleep. Lily watched her for long moments, memorizing each freckle sprinkled across Annmarie's cheeks. The idea of all that she had nearly lost today—and all she had to be thankful for—filled her heart to overflowing.

She found Quinn in the living room where he stood, staring out of the big window.

Through the reflection, Lily could see that he was watching her, his expression as serious as a judge.

Finally, he turned around and pulled the ottoman toward the couch and then sat in front of her.

He clasped his hands loosely, his elbows resting on his knees, his head bent. Lily extended a hand to him, and he took it. Was now the moment that he'd tell her he needed to leave? She could only hope that it wasn't.

“Annmarie came to me with a proposal a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “She was looking for a husband for you.”
He swallowed. “Just for a little while…just until there was a baby.” His eyes grew even darker. “I can't do that.”

Lily felt her eyes fill with tears.

Quinn let go of her hand to brush the tears from her cheeks, his touch gentle. “The part I can't do, Lily, is the little while.” He took her hand within his again. He cleared his throat. “Since you and Annmarie are a package deal…” He met her gaze, his beautiful eyes glistening.

Quinn's courage deserted him and, letting go of her hand, he looked away. The words, “Will you marry me?” remained stuck in his throat. No other question in his entire life had been more important, and if she said no—and if she had any sense of self-preservation at all, she should—it would just about kill him.

“Tell me about my daughter's proposal.”

His gaze came back to Lily, who had never been more beautiful to him than she was right now.

“She's looking for a daddy because of that baby she wants. Somewhere along the way she decided that required a husband.”

“I see.” She raised her chin. “What about you?”

“Me?” Could he lay everything out there for her to see? Being that vulnerable…was the only way. He took a breath, his heart unbearably exposed. “This afternoon I figured out there was only one thing I feared more than living my life alone.” He took both of her hands in his. “Living my life without you.” He leaned toward her until his lips touched her loose, fragrant hair. “I can't make it without you, Lily. I want you, just you. And the little munchkin until she's off on her own in another fifteen or twenty years.”

Lily's eyes shimmered and her hands trembled. “What if there was another child?”

He didn't have an answer for that, especially after she took his hand and splayed it across her tummy. His heart stopped.

“My period is late. And it's never late.”

The future shifted. Annmarie and other children, too? He
took a deep breath and his heart resumed beating. “You think?”

“I honestly don't know.” Her chin quivered. “I was so afraid since I'd told you I couldn't have children that you'd think I'd deceived you—”

“No.” He sat next to her on the couch and pulled her into his arms, lifting her across his lap. “I want you, Lily. Whether you come with only Annmarie or children that you and I make together, I don't care.”

“I love you, Quinn.”

A single tear welled and rolled down his cheek. If anyone had ever said those words to him before, he didn't remember it. One thing was sure—he'd certainly never heard them before.

“I love you,” he said. “Will you marry me? Will you be my forever family?”

“Yes.” She kissed him, all open and giving like she always was. Only this time he knew he didn't have to guard his battered and tender heart. Not ever again.