Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

On the second ring, Quinn answered with, "Hey." Scrambled number or not, he knew who it was. The second I heard that familiar "hey," something in me jumped, and something in me cracked, and I wanted to hang up, because it was just too hard. I might blame him for not contacting me since the breakup, but the truth was that when I made those calls myself, a part of me--an increasingly big part--had been praying he wouldn't answer. If he did, I'd only have to hear his voice, and I'd say anything, do anything, to put things right, and yet I knew that even if I managed to piece us back together, we'd only end up here again.

"Dee?" he said when I didn't reply.

"I'm sorry."

A pause from his end now. I'm sure he was trying to figure out what I was sorry for. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed on.

"When I heard who died," I said. "I should have called."

"Yeah, you should have."

"I wasn't thinking. I just found out and I'm still reeling. I didn't think about you seeing it until Jack mentioned it and--"

"You're with Jack?"

I winced. "Long story. A business thing. Anyway, you're right. I should have called and notified you about Aldrich, and I'm sorry about that."

"Notifying me, Dee? How about simply talking to me."

Now I bristled. I didn't mean to. I wanted to get through this call with my temper in check. Instead, I heard myself saying, "And why exactly would I do that? You've made it quite clear that any personal contact is not welcome."

I expected him to bristle back, to snarl and snap, as he had that last time. But he only sighed and said, "Not for something like this, obviously."

"Then I apologize," I said, with zero apology in my voice. "I wasn't aware there were exceptions."

I braced for a retort but got only silence. Then I waited for the hang-up click.

"I was an ass," he said after a long minute.

No, don't say that. Goddamn you, Quinn, don't say that. Snap at me. Snarl at me. Hang up on me. That makes it easier.

"We need to talk," he said, "and I know this isn't the time. Let's start over. I heard who died. How are you holding up?"

"I didn't do it."

"That wasn't what I asked."

"But it's what you have to know, right? I'm not being a bitch, Quinn. I'm just . . . I'd like to stick to that."

"Business."

"Right."

"Because you have Jack there for support."

I wanted to bristle at that, too, and part of me did, but the image it conjured up was so ridiculous that I couldn't help sputtering a laugh.

"Yes," I said. "Jack came running to let me cry on his shoulder, because that's so Jack."

"All right." A pause. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I just . . . He pissed me off. He calls me because there's an issue with you, gets me worried, and then refuses to tell me what it is. Being an asshole. Typical."

"He couldn't tell you my problem without--"

"Yeah, yeah. Security concerns. Which conveniently left me hanging, while he swooped in to--" Quinn bit off the sentence and swore. "And that's not why I called, either. Let's start again."

"I didn't do it. I know it seems suspicious. You get a call about a problem with me, I'm on the road, and the next thing you hear, a certain someone is dead, but it's a coincidence." Mostly. "I was dealing with another job, a state away, and he committed suicide. I got my ass home, just in case there were questions. So far, nothing, but I suppose it's just hitting the wire."

"Yeah. He had some warrants out, under aliases. Not exactly on our most-wanted list, but . . . I had something set up. To ping me if his name popped on our system. It did about an hour ago. His body was just found."