Justice for Corrie (Badge of Honor: Texas Heroes Book 3) (5 page)

“What’s so funny?” Corrie asked, exasperated.

“Not what you think, obviously.”

“Darn it, Quint.”

“I was just sitting here thinking how endearing you are.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you worked yourself up into a frenzy, but not once did you slip and swear.”

Startled at his words, Corrie could only mumble, “Huh?”

“I swear all the time. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. Must be the company I keep. I hope that’s not going to bother you.” Quint knew the words coming out of his mouth were some sort of commitment to this woman he’d just met, but he wasn’t sorry. “I know finding you funny is inappropriate as hell, because the reason you’re saying what you said is anything but humorous, but I thought it was cute and hilarious at the same time.”

Quint’s tone changed with his next words. He got serious and all humor was gone. “But that’s not to say I like your plan. I don’t. Not one bit.” He gently squeezed Corrie’s hand when she opened her mouth to speak.

“That being said—I get it. I do. I wouldn’t want to put my parents at risk either. And you certainly shouldn’t put Emily, Bethany, or Ethan in danger. Have you told your friend what’s going on?”

Corrie shook her head. Oh, Emily knew about the shooting and what had happened of course, she’d stayed at her house right after it happened, but Corrie hadn’t told her about the phone call yet.

“She’s going to insist you stay with her.”

“I know, but I’m going to insist I don’t in return.”

Quint sighed. He didn’t like it. He
really
didn’t like it. But what could he do? They weren’t dating; he’d just met this woman today. He didn’t have any say in what she did in her life. None. And he found himself hating that.

“Do you have a cell?”

Corrie looked at him as if he had two heads. “Uh, yeah. Everyone has a cell.”

Quint chuckled again. Damn, she was so fucking cute. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Oh, because I can’t see?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, Mr. Cop. I’m going easy on you because I don’t think you’re trying to be discriminatory or a jerk about this. I’m normal. I’m as normal as you. I cook, I clean, I talk on the phone, I even use a computer. I can read, I can tell time, I can pay for my own stuff with real money, I dress myself every morning and manage to color coordinate my clothes with the help of Braille labels. I can play specialized board games and figure out what socks go with which, except if the dryer monster eats them like it always seems to somehow. I’m just like you, Quint. I eat the same, brush my teeth the same, make love the same, orgasm the same, cry, smile, and get pissed…just like you.”

“Will you go to dinner with me later this week?”

“What?” Corrie shook her head. Had she heard him right? She’d just gotten done haranguing him, and he was asking her out?

“Will you go to dinner with me?” When Corrie didn’t immediately answer, he added, “Please?”

“I don’t know…”

“I’ve been attracted to you since I saw you from across the restaurant today. I don’t like doormats, so when you stood up for yourself with that guy who ran into you, I was impressed. I’m even more impressed now. You don’t take crap from me, you’ll protect your friends with everything you have, and you have a slight sarcastic streak. You’re beautiful, you’re a perfect height for me, you call me out on my idiotic bullshit, even when I say it out of a lack of knowledge and not malicious intent. Call me a masochist, but I like the fact you can stand up for yourself with me. You’re not afraid of me, and that’s very refreshing, you have no idea. I want to take you out and get to know more about you. I want to know about all the idiots who you put in their place for acting stupid. I want to know how you can do all those things you just threw in my face. I like you, Corrie. Please let me take you out.”

“Oh. After that passionate speech, I’d be a horrible person if I refused.” Corrie couldn’t think of anything else to say after all that.

Quint smiled, for once glad she couldn’t see his amusement. God, she was so refreshing. She didn’t play games, and he’d never been so attracted to anyone before. “Give me your phone.”

Corrie reached down and grabbed her purse that she’d placed next to the chair when she’d sat and plucked her cell out of the side pocket she always put it in. She held her thumb to the button at the bottom for a few beats to unlock it, then handed it over to Quint.

He didn’t say a word, but Corrie could hear him clicking some buttons on her phone.

“I’m assuming you use the voice feature on here to call people?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, I put myself in as simply ‘Quint’ to make it easy when you want to call me.”

Feeling a bit of her inner snarkiness coming back, Corrie quipped, “I’m going to want to call you?”

She could hear the laughter in Quint’s voice when he responded. “I sure as shit hope so.”

He fiddled a bit more with the phone and she heard his own cell vibrate in the room. “I hope you don’t mind, but I called my cell so I’d have your number too. I’ll program it in later. Here ya go, your phone.”

Corrie held out her hand and Quint put it into her palm. He brought his other hand under hers and clasped her hand with both of his. “I’m worried about you, Corrie.”

She inhaled. She hadn’t been sure if he was going to let it drop or not. Apparently he wasn’t. But it’d been so long since anyone had worried about her, Corrie had almost forgotten what it felt like. She hadn’t lied; her parents had brought her up to be self-sufficient and they hadn’t coddled her at all. Oh, they loved her fiercely, but they wanted her to be independent and able to live on her own. They’d done the best they could for her, and Corrie was thankful as all get out. She wouldn’t be where she was today if her parents hadn’t been so awesome.

Corrie knew Emily worried about her as well, but it was somehow different, especially since Bethany had given birth to their son. They had someone else to worry about now. Their first concern was Ethan, and should always be Ethan.

“I’ll be okay.”

Quint hadn’t let go of her hand. “You’ll call if something doesn’t seem right?”

“Call
you
? No. I’ll call 9-1-1.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that, but you’ll call me if you’re uneasy, or if you just need someone to talk to?”

“I don’t know you, Quint. Why would I call you?”

“I don’t really know you either, but I’m trying to. I can’t help this worry that’s sitting in the pit of my stomach when it comes to you and this situation. I think about you unable to see, sitting in your apartment, and someone breaking in.”

Corrie started getting mad again and tried to tug her hand out of his grasp. “I told you, I’m not helpless.”

“I
know
that, Jesus. I
do
. But I can’t turn this off. My gut is screaming at me that there’s more to this than what we’ve been able to figure out as of yet. I wouldn’t like it if you were a man who was six foot five and a bodybuilder. I’d like to say it has nothing to do with your eyesight, but we’d both know I’d be lying. Corrie, I’ve been a cop for a long time. I’ve learned to listen to my gut. If I honestly didn’t think you could take care of yourself, I’d insist on you going to a motel, or to someone’s house, anyone’s place other than your own. But I can see how self-sufficient you are. That competency practically oozes out of your pores. But that niggling feeling is still there. So please, for the love of God, call me if something seems off. I can check it out without embarrassing you. Then if it’s nothing, you haven’t felt like you’ve bothered anyone else. Yeah?”

Corrie ran his words over and over in her head. He was right. This was a messed-up situation, and she didn’t like it either. He’d said he was worried about her. It felt good. And she liked him. He wanted to take her on a date. Why the heck was she fighting him about this?

“Okay.”

“Just okay? No other commentary?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Thank Christ.”

She giggled a bit at his response. Quint finally let go of her hand and she turned and put her cell back into the small pocket in her purse.

“Come on, I’m off duty. I’ll take you home.”

Corrie fought the automatic refusal that almost came out of her mouth. She was independent, yes, but it was stupid to refuse a ride. Why shouldn’t she let Quint take her home? She wouldn’t have to call Emily to come pick her up now or take a taxi. She usually didn’t mind using cabs to get around, but with everything that had happened she knew she’d feel safer with him. Besides, she told herself, he’d need to know where she lived if she was going to go on a date with him.

“Okay, I’d appreciate that.” She stood up and held out her hand, smiling at the now familiar feel of Quint’s big hand wrapping around her own. It really was amazing that after thirty-two years, she’d never felt so normal when she was being helped around as she did with Quint. The simple act of taking her hand rather than letting her grab on to his elbow, even though he had no idea he was doing it “wrong,” made her feel as though she was on an actual date, rather than feeling helpless. She liked it. A lot.

D
ing

The loud noise from her phone made Corrie jump what seemed like ten feet. She reached over and pushed the button on her alarm clock to see what time it was. The mechanical voice announced that it was eleven forty-three.

She hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights because of everything that had happened and every little sound now made her jump. She was hyperaware and hated it. Even the normal sounds of her apartment now frightened her. The ice maker in the refrigerator making ice, the sound of the air conditioning turning on and off, even the sound of the automated voice of her clock made her jump. Every sound made her wonder if someone was in the apartment. She’d conditioned herself over the years to almost not even hear the sounds, but not now. Corrie despised it.

She pushed a button on the phone and heard the computerized voice read the text that had woken her up moments ago.

Quint- Hey. Just wanted to check in. Just got off shift. I hate the new-and-improved shifts the chief is trying out…the hours are constantly changing. Anyway…everything ok with you?

It was a little annoying that the program read the name of the person sending the text every single time, but Corrie hadn’t had a chance to get the upgrade yet. Quint had been texting her intermittingly since he’d dropped her off earlier in the week. He’d come up to her apartment and checked it out for her, declaring it “bad-guy free.” She’d laughed at the time, but occasionally wished over the last few days that he’d been there to check it out for her again and simply to keep her company.

She clicked on a button and spoke into the phone, knowing the program would turn her words into a text automatically. All she had to say was send after she was done speaking, and her text would go through.

I’m ok. Your shift go ok?

Quint- Typical. Seriously, you all right?

As all right as I can be. Nights are the worst. I swear every time an ice cube falls in the fridge, it scares me to death.

Quint didn’t respond for a few minutes and Corrie sat up in bed nervously. Shoot. She knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut. She’d always kept their conversations light and easy in the past, not even wanting to admit to herself that she was frightened, let alone Quint. She had no idea why she’d decided to let him know how she really felt tonight.

The ding of the incoming text scared Corrie again. Crap.

Quint- I have a confession.

Okay.

Quint- I’ve been driving past your place after my shifts this week to make sure everything looked okay.

And?

Quint- That’s it.

That’s your confession?
Corrie didn’t see what the issue was.

Quint- Yeah.

Okay.

Quint- Okay? You don’t have an issue with me driving by?

No. Why would I? You’re a police officer, you have a gun, you’re obviously a lot more equipped to deal with bad guys than I am.

Quint- True. Now I have another confession.

Corrie smiled now. She forgot all about how she’d been scared and concentrated on the pleasure coursing through her that Quint had wanted to check on her.

Another? You like to put on women’s underwear at night and prance around your house?

Quint- Good Lord, woman. No! Jeez.

Corrie giggled, waiting for him to tell her his next confession.

Quint- I’m outside your apartment now. I didn’t want to text and drive so I pulled over to check on you. Would you feel better if I came up to make sure there’s nothing to be afraid of in your apartment?

Corrie struggled to get her thoughts in order. On one hand, she loved that Quint had been thinking about her and wanted to make sure she was safe. But on the other hand, she didn’t want to rely on him. He wouldn’t always be around. She knew being in a relationship with her wasn’t easy. She’d had several boyfriends and even one who had moved in for a while. But he hadn’t been able to deal with her “quirks,” as he’d called them.

Living with someone who couldn’t see could be tough. The furniture couldn’t be moved, everything had its place. There were assistive technologies throughout her house, helping her function on her own. Almost everything could “talk” and her last serious boyfriend even complained about her knowledge of Braille, wondering out loud what she was typing and saying about him that he couldn’t understand.

Even after a week, Corrie knew letting Quint into her life could be dangerous to her heart. He seemed like the kind of man who went all in whatever it was he was doing. If he went “all in” with her then decided she wasn’t worth the effort, it’d hurt. Bad.

She knew he was still waiting for her response. She thought long and hard. Was it creepy he was there or not? Corrie thought about it…and decided it was a bit weird, but Quint
was
a cop. He’d told her time and time again he didn’t like it that she was staying in her apartment alone, so she decided that he wasn’t being stalkerish, he was being protective. She spoke into her phone and waited.

I’d like that. Thank you.

Quint- I’ll be up in a few minutes. I’ll knock twice, pause, then twice more, so you’ll know it’s me.

Okay. I’ll be waiting.

Corrie put the phone down on her nightstand where she was always careful to place it. Emily had bought her one of those things that were usually used to hold remote controls for the television to put her cell in each night. She’d “lost” her phone too many times in the past by putting it down in random places. She’d learned to always put it in exactly the same place so she could find it when she needed it.

She reached for her comfy terry-cloth robe that was over the back of the easy chair in the corner of her room and pulled it around her, making sure to tie it closed tightly. She wasn’t wearing anything sexy, a long-sleeved sleep shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, but it seemed prudent to cover up. Corrie ran her hands over her hair, trying to decide if she should go and get a scrunchie and put it up, but finally decided against it. She combed it with her fingers and shrugged. Oh well. It would have to do.

Corrie padded down the hall to the living room and went straight to her front door to wait. She didn’t wait long. She heard two knocks, then two more.

“Quint?” she asked through the closed door.

“Yeah.”

Corrie keyed in the security code on the panel next to the door, then twisted the bolt and unlocked the doorknob before opening the door a crack, keeping the security chain in place.

She once again asked tentatively, “Quint?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Okay, hang on.” Corrie closed the door and undid the security chain, then opened the door fully.

She stepped back and Quint came into her apartment, shutting the door behind him. Corrie took a deep breath. He smelled wonderful. She could tell he was still in his uniform because she could once again hear the telltale creaking of the leather belt around his waist. He smelled like leather and teakwood cologne of some sort. She could also smell a slight odor of sweat. Whatever he’d been doing tonight had obviously made him perspire at some point.

She startled a bit when she felt Quint’s hand at her shoulder.

“You look exhausted. You’re really not sleeping well, are you?”

Corrie shrugged, careful not to shrug off the comforting hand at her shoulder. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” she quipped, expecting Quint to laugh. He didn’t.

“That’s not funny. I’m being serious.”

Corrie sighed and turned to walk into her living room, only cringing a little inside at losing his touch. “I’ll be fine, Quint. You’re right, I’m not sleeping that well right now, but this will pass eventually. I heard from Detective Algood today and he said they’re getting closer to finding Shaun. Once they do, he’ll tell them what they need to know to catch this guy and I’ll go back to sleeping a full seven hours a night. I’d love it if you could look around and make sure all is safe and secure. Then I’ll be able to sleep better, I’m sure. I’ll just sit over here on the couch while you look around…okay?”

Quint looked at Corrie’s retreating back. He was frustrated. He hated that she wasn’t sleeping at night, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had no idea what it was about her that made him feel so much, but it was something. Something that he couldn’t walk away from.

He forced himself to tear his eyes off of Corrie and look around. Quint had been in her apartment once before, the first time he’d taken her home, and just as he’d been then, he was amazed at how neat everything was. Some people might say her apartment looked institutional, it was so pristine, but when he looked closer, he could see her little touches everywhere.

There were no pictures on the walls, nor were there any bookshelves. She wouldn’t have any reason to have either of those things around since she couldn’t see them. There was a large television set up against one wall. She had a remote control holder thing on her coffee table and the remotes were lined up precisely from tallest to shortest within it. She was sitting on a comfortable-looking leather couch and there was a big easy chair sitting at a right angle next to the sofa. A coffee table was sitting on a tan rug in front of the couch.

He turned his attention to the kitchen and noticed there were no papers lying around on the counter but there was a stack of mail sitting in a basket.

Quint strolled over to it and looked in. It seemed as if there was several days’ worth of mail in the basket. “How do you read your mail?” The question came out without him thinking. Quint winced, hoping it wasn’t insensitive.

“Emily comes over once a week and goes through it for me.”

Her answer was congenial enough. Appeared as if she didn’t take offense to his question.

As if she had mind-reading abilities, she said, “Quint, you can ask whatever you want. Despite evidence to the contrary, I’m usually hard to offend, especially when it comes to someone asking genuine questions about assistive technologies.”

“Thank you, I will. I find everything about you fascinating.” Quint noticed she didn’t turn his way, but thought he saw a sheen of red bloom over her cheeks. He continued checking her place out. The kitchen appliances seemed normal at first glance, but he didn’t know much about what appliances in a blind person’s kitchen would look like. Like most men, he lived on microwave meals and whatever he could make on the stovetop and in the crockpot. Of course, he could also grill a mean steak.

Quint looked around the rest of the living room and kitchen, and seeing nothing out of place, went down the hall to the bedrooms. He opened the first door he came to, remembering from the last time it was the linen closet. The sheets and towels were stacked neatly, and impressively, the towels were stacked by color and the sheets were all in sets. He closed the door and went into the guestroom.

The area reminded him of a hotel room. There was a double-size bed with a black dresser against the opposite wall. There was a small window with forest-green curtains and not much else in the room. Again, there were no pictures on the walls or any extra decorations. Quint briefly lifted the comforter and looked under the bed. Nothing but a few dust bunnies. Neat as a pin.

He then went into the small guest bathroom. The shower curtain on the single shower was pulled back, showing a completely empty stall. The single sink and toilet were off-white and the entire place smelled fresh, as if it’d recently been cleaned.

Quint then continued into the master bedroom. This room, at least, looked a bit more lived in. Corrie’s bed covers were mussed and he could tell how she’d thrown back the quilt as she’d gotten out of bed. Her cell phone was on a little table next to the queen-size bed in another remote control holder. There was a comfortable-looking easy chair in the corner of the room and a four-drawer dresser next to the chair. The window was large and had dark blue curtains, which were tied back. He looked under the bed, and again saw that it was empty and clean, not even a dust bunny to be seen this time.

He peeked into her bathroom and smiled. It was definitely a woman’s bathroom. There were two sinks and a row of lotions lined up next to one of them. There was even a tray filled with makeup in the bathroom as well. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now that he saw Corrie’s personal space, he realized that she’d always been wearing a bit of makeup when he’d seen her before tonight. She’d somehow learned how to apply it…and it looked good on her.

Quint took the time to glance into the shower and, seeing it empty, headed back down the hall to Corrie.

“All clear?” she asked as he came back into the room.

“All clear,” Quint confirmed as he sat on the other end of the sofa. When she smiled, he asked what she was thinking about.

“Every time you move, I can hear all your equipment moving and creaking. I think I’d know in a heartbeat if I was in the same room as another cop based on the sounds of your stuff as you move around.”

Her words brought home to Quint just how observant Corrie really was. It fascinated him. “What else?”

“What do you mean, ‘What else’?”

“What else can you tell about me from listening?”

“Is this a test?”

“No. I’m just curious. No, that’s not exactly right. It amazes me.
You
amaze me. I’m in awe of you, Corrie.”

Her cheeks pinked and she bit her lip, thinking about his question as if no one had ever taken the time to get to know her in this way before. Finally she answered. “Let’s see…I can smell your shampoo, at least I think it’s your shampoo. It’s faint, but it smells like teakwood?”

“You’re good. Go on.”

“And you’ve eaten a peppermint recently.”

“Yup, right before I came up.”

Corrie nodded as if she’d known she was right all along. “And I can tell you’ve been sweating. It’s not bad, but you must’ve done something tonight that made you exert some energy.”

Quint scooted over to sit closer to Corrie and took hold of the edge of her robe which was lying on the cushion next to him. “Had a drunk man resist arrest. I had to subdue him.” Quint said the words easily, but he was blown away by Corrie. Seriously, she was fucking amazing.