Apparently Hayley had meant it.
“Really, I just need advice,” she said. And she was suddenly having second thoughts, because once she told someone else of her suspicions, she was committed, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
“We’re good at that,” Hayley said.
Quinn studied her for a moment before saying quietly, “If you’d rather, I’ll leave you two alone. But Cutter seems to think I might be of help.”
She didn’t know how seriously to take this. “So he not only tells you there’s a problem, he tells you who should, as you put it, ‘fix it’?”
Quinn’s mouth quirked wryly. “Believe me, I know how it sounds. I was the hardest sell on his unique...talents.”
“Hayley’s told me all about his abilities,” she said doubtfully, “but seeing it in person is quite different.”
At her words the dog rose from where he’d plopped beside the fire. He walked over to her and rested his chin on her knee. He looked up at her intently. It was a natural thing, she thought, to pet a dog who did that. Yet it was odd how she felt as if she had no choice.
The moment her fingers touched the silky fur of his head, a strange sort of calm came over her. She stroked, gently. Again, then again.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” Quinn asked. “How he makes you feel better?”
She looked up. Realized she truly did feel better. “It’s...disconcerting.”
“At the very least,” Hayley agreed, grinning now.
“So is it personal or professional?” Quinn asked.
That straight-to-business thing again, Amy thought. “Professional,” she admitted, although she still wasn’t sure she should do this. But she’d come over a thousand miles, so it seemed silly to quibble now. And she was feeling better about it, she had to admit. Maybe it really was Cutter, she thought as the dog laid down at her feet, resting his chin now on the toe of her foot.
“I thought you loved your job,” Hayley said.
“I do.”
Quinn lifted a brow. “Problem with people, then?”
“Sort of. I mean, the support staff is great, and Kim, the receptionist, is a sweetheart, but the attorneys... Most of them are just driven types, always looking for ways to raise their profile. Becca Olson—I told you about her, Hayley, she’s the one I have lunch with almost every week—is the only really friendly one. I think that’s a ‘we girls have to stick together’ thing, since there are only a few of us. The guys are pretty cold fish, and I wouldn’t be surprised at anything from them. But I always thought my boss...”
She broke off, still not quite ready to put her suspicions into words.
“You’ve always said you respected him, that he’s tough but fair,” Hayley said.
“I do. Did.” She saw by their expressions that neither of them missed the switch. “But I think... I’m afraid he’s involved in something.”
“Something you don’t like? Or something crooked?” Hayley asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“I met Marcus Rockwell once,” Quinn said, startling her. “He impressed me as a pretty straight arrow.”
“You met my boss?”
“Through a friend, who has another law firm in LA.”
“Oh? Maybe I’ve met him. They all run in the same circles.”
“He’s pretty high up in those circles himself. Alex Armistead.”
Amy’s eyes widened. “I’d say so. As in the very top. We like to think of ourselves as their main competition, but in truth his firm is a couple of rungs up at least. I’ve never met him, even though their office is across the street. Seen him now and then.”
“He’s a good man.”
Amy had the feeling that was not an accolade Quinn Foxworth passed out lightly. “He...”
Cutter erupted to his feet with a trumpeting bark, cutting Quinn off. Amy jumped. Nearly shrieked. Even Hayley drew back in surprise.
Quinn, however, was instantly on his own feet. Amy could practically feel the change in him. Just looking at him, he’d gone from her best friend’s concerned husband to the man she’d only heard about until now. The fighter, the leader, the man in command. So much so that she wasn’t truly surprised when he spun to the cabinet behind him, reached down and touched something that made a part of the surface pop up. An instant later he had a black pistol in his hand and was headed across the room after the dog.
Amy gave Hayley a startled glance. “Some people aren’t happy when we’re done with them,” Hayley said, on her own feet now.
Cutter was nearly to the front door when he stopped dead and fell silent in the same instant. He gave a low whine that sounded almost puzzled. And when he looked back at Quinn, his expression was almost comical. The dog looked utterly confused.
Quinn diverted to the window closest to the front door, but kept to the edge, out of sight from outside.
“What is it, boy?” Hayley asked the dog. “A threat?”
That same puzzled-sounding whine. It might not be words, but even Amy could interpret the canine “I don’t know.”
Quinn reached out and slid the window open a fraction of an inch. He leaned over, clearly listening. Then he took a quick look.
“Somebody walking down the drive,” he said. “Can’t tell who.” He glanced at Cutter. “And apparently neither can he.”
“Odd, he’s never reacted like this before.”
Quinn leaned farther to look through the window again. “Guy isn’t trying to hide,” he said. “And he’s got a duffel bag with him. Don’t recognize him, though.”
He looked a moment longer, glanced once more at the puzzled Cutter, then straightened, setting the weapon down on the table next to the door. That alone made Amy’s pulse slow a bit more. Whether he trusted the dog’s instincts or his own more she didn’t know. But she did trust him. Something about this man she barely knew seemed to inspire that.
Quinn looked at Cutter, who was, Amy realized, staring at Hayley. With that same intensity she’d turned on herself. After a second or two the dog got up and walked to Hayley, then turned to face the door. Putting himself, Amy realized, between her friend and the door. Just as Quinn had put himself between them and the possible threat.
“Well, now,” Hayley said softly as she touched the dog’s head, “this is all new.”
“He’s protecting you, right?” Amy asked.
“He’s not in protect mode. Believe me, you’d see the difference.”
