Exit Strategy (Nadia Stafford 1)

I looked at Jack. "Whatever happened today, however much we disagree about that, I trust you and I'd really like your input. I plan to pull this off, Jack. Without getting myself killed."

"I know." He leaned back into the cushions. "Talk to me."

So I did.

* * *

FORTY-EIGHT

I woke up in the bedroom I was sharing with Evelyn. Last thing I remembered, Jack and I had finished discussing the plan and moved on to talking about...I had no idea what we'd moved on to, because I think that the moment I had the plan straight in my head, I fell asleep. Jack must have carried me in to the bedroom.

I rolled over and checked the other bed. It was empty. The clock read 8:12. I shot up with a curse. Of all the days to sleep in...

I could hear Evelyn in the main room, saying something about Dubois and the contact call. Was there a problem? I scrambled up and threw open the door.

"Have we heard back--?"

I stopped. Evelyn sat on the sofa, in conversation with a man. Only that man wasn't Jack. It was Quinn. And I was standing in the doorway, half-naked, no wig, no contacts, no makeup. Quinn's gaze didn't go to my face first, though. It went to my chest. Or, more accurately, to my torso, emblazoned with the Ontario Police College logo. His eyes lifted to mine. He blinked, realizing I wasn't wearing a disguise, then looked away. I backpedaled and slammed the door as Evelyn let out an oath.

Evelyn opened the door without knocking.

"Shit, that was a stupid move," she muttered.

I glared over my shirt collar as I pulled it on. "Yes, I've been making a lot of stupid moves lately, but thanks for clarifying that."

"By 'stupid move,' Dee, I meant mine. I should've warned you Quinn was here."

I tugged on my jeans. "Well, I should have woken up enough to think about checking before throwing open the door."

"I don't think he got a good look at you. He did the right thing--turned away."

"It's not my face I'm worried about. It's this." I lifted the police college shirt for her to read before I refolded it into my bag. "That he did see."

"Shit."

A soft knock at the door.

"Dee?" Quinn.

I asked him to wait while I looked around for my wig and contacts. When I had them on, I called a welcome. He slid inside. Evelyn hesitated, then left. Quinn stood there as I pulled on my socks.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Hey, you didn't do anything wrong. You just glanced up when the door opened. And thanks--you know, for looking away when you realized I..."

I let the sentence fade, and picked up my toothpaste. Before I could slip into the bathroom, he grabbed my hand.

"Dee? Whatever I saw? There could be a few explanations, and I have no intention of trying to figure out which one is right."

"Thanks."

"How about a trade-off?" He smiled. "One question. Ask me anything."

When I shook my head, his smile faltered.

"Sure. Okay. I mean, maybe there's nothing you want--"

"Your eyes," I said, managing a small smile. "What color are your eyes?"