there myself, if for no other reason than to drive you to an early retirement.”
“I’m real amused here.”
“Let us bring her down to you, you get the information we need to bring him in and get a conviction, then we’ll disappear back into the night and leave you to your sweet little six-thirty appointments.”
“Until the next time you need my help.”
Quin laughed. “You weren’t that hot a shot, D.J. Just this one favor, then we won’t come knocking again.”
The problem was, he had been that hot a shot. And they both knew it. They also both knew that one turn as a “consultant” would put him on their list. They’d come knocking whenever they needed to, with whatever excuse they saw fit to use to get what they wanted. “Liar.”
Quin said nothing. “You going to help us or what?”
Dylan already knew it wasn’t as simple as saying no. If so, it would have worked when he’d done just that to Hannigan this morning. “I say no and you’ll just show up in my office with Pearl in tow. So why didn’t you just do that in the first place?”
“Professional courtesy?”
“That’s an oxymoron if ever I heard one, especially out of our department.”
Quin didn’t rise to the bait. Probably because he knew it was true. Dylan was thankful enough that he had called first not to push it any further.
“Are you sure she knows anything? I mean, it’s been years since she’s been in the loop with Dugan. If she really knew anything important, he’s had plenty of time now to cover it up. Otherwise he’d have never left her to her own devices in the first place.”
“Maybe he knows she’ll be loyal because she still loves him. Maybe he was stupid enough about her to trust her that way. You know we all think with our dicks half the time. Why not Dugan?”
“I don’t know, Quin. It just doesn’t sound all that solid to me. Did she give you any specifics of what she was going to spill?”
“No. But we have to pursue it, D.J. We don’t have that many options with Dugan these days. So how does this Wednesday sound to you?”
That was only two days away. But it was probably best to get it over and done with. Dylan sighed and massaged his temple. Maybe he’d been wrong after all. You could go home again, but all the baggage you’d collected along the way came home with you.
“We’ll come to your place. Keep this quiet and out of the local papers.”
“No, not at the house.” If he’d had the time, Dylan would have simply caved and gone to Vegas, done the interview and put it behind him. But with the festival coming up and all the attendant council meetings, there was no way he could be gone without making explanations he’d rather not make. He blew out a long breath and decided sleeping with Liza was moving way down on the list of possible worst mistakes.
“You pick the place, then.”
Setting up secret meetings with ex-mob girlfriends wasn’t exactly high priority these days, so he had to think about it for a moment. “Mims Motel. We keep this private.” It was small, but nice enough, and more importantly, tucked away on the outskirts of town. “Reserve the room, an end unit, under the name Liza…” Damn, he didn’t know her last name. “Smith.” Lame, but he was thinking on the run here, and rusty at it.
“Hey, Boss, you trying to get the department to pay for your little shack-up?”
His jaw tensed. “You want my help?”
“Liza Smith it is,” Quin said instantly, but not without a little amusement. “See you Wednesday, Boss.”
“Yeah, great,” Dylan muttered, but Quin had already hung up. Dylan tossed the phone on the passenger seat and scrubbed his hand over his face, then around the back of his neck. He wondered what his chances were of getting Liza to hang around Canyon Springs for another forty-eight hours.
He was certain his mother had mainlined the information about his supposed showgirl’s arrival directly into the artery of the very active ladies auxiliary. The entire town was buzzing as he sat here. So, it would cause barely a ripple if he were to visit said girlfriend at a local motel. And there was the added bonus of gaining what little approval he could get from his mother over not allowing Liza to stay at his house. Why a thirty-two-year-old man gave a damn about that was simply too pathetic to contemplate.
Of course, Avis might be so thankful over his proved heterosexuality that she wouldn’t care if he and Liza swung naked from the trees smack in the middle of town.
He shook his head at the image and climbed his truck the rest of the way up the steep drive.
She was waiting for him on the deck.
“I thought you were having second thoughts,” she said, leaning over the railing. “And third and fourth ones.”
He closed the truck door and climbed the spiral stairs to the second-story deck. “What do you mean?”
She turned to face him, but stayed by the railing. “Well, you sat down there at the bottom of the hill for so long, I began to wonder.”
“Oh. Phone call. Sorry.”
“Ah.” She gestured behind her. “You have quite the view from up here.”
“You improve it greatly.”
She smiled at him. “Smooth, very smooth.”
He shrugged and the whole problem with Quin and the upcoming interview slid to the background. Maybe he should arrange to come home to a beautiful woman more often.
“I try.” Rather than move closer, which was what he wanted to do, and likely what she expected him to do, he leaned against the side door that led into the living area. The entire front wall of the house was sectioned glass. His bedroom was in the loft at the upper rear of the house and had a small balcony off the back. He wondered if she’d been up there yet and absently hoped he hadn’t left too many stray socks lying around. “Can I get you a beer or something? Or have you helped yourself?”
“Actually, I haven’t been inside.” She dangled the key. “I came up here and got cozy with the view instead.”
“You could have at least gotten yourself something to drink.” He’d assumed she’d make herself right at home. Maybe she enjoyed doing the unexpected, as well. Should make for an interesting evening.
She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t come directly up to the house.” She grinned. “Now don’t go frowning like that. I didn’t talk to anyone. At least not anyone immediately related to you.”
“In this town blood isn’t necessarily thicker than water.”
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