pulled it open for her. She stepped inside, not knowing what to expect.
To her surprise, the downstairs was furnished as if it were a home, a gas fireplace the centerpiece along one wall, with a leather couch and a couple of chairs arranged around a heavy coffee table in front of it, and a large area rug marking off the space visually. There was a small kitchen area along a back wall with an island separating it. A doorway on the other side stood partway open, showing a bathroom.
“This is...unexpected, from the outside.”
Teague chuckled. “Quinn was living here before he kidnapped Hayley.”
She blinked. “He what?”
“It’s a long story. Ask her sometime.”
He led her toward the stairway that ran along the far wall. They went up a flight, past the second floor that seemed mostly used for storage, then another.
“Quinn set up in here so we could watch the eagles,” Teague explained. “There’s a nesting pair in the woods just across the clearing.”
Laney smiled, feeling better at that. The frequent sightings of majestic bald eagles was one of her favorite things about living out of the city. She didn’t miss the crowds, the traffic or the noise, either. She had few regrets about moving across the water.
Except Amber.
She only hoped she didn’t regret that for the rest of her life.
* * *
Laney, Teague noted, had the same reaction many did to Quinn, a sort of awed silence. Despite the casual clothes, the polite words as he greeted them, and the way he was scratching the clearly delighted Cutter’s ears, what they called “command presence” fairly oozed from the guy. More than once Teague had caught himself about to salute him, and more often than that had thought if there were more like Quinn in the upper echelons, more brass that had come up the hard way instead of the political way, he never would have left the corps. When they talked about riding into the valley of hell, Quinn was the kind of guy it would take to lead that charge.
“Where is Hayley, anyway?” Teague asked. She wasn’t usually far away from Quinn or Cutter for long.
“Shopping.”
“Oh.”
“Clothes. Charlie,” Quinn said.
Teague grinned. “She’s still nervous about that, huh?”
Quinn grimaced. “Hell, I’m nervous about that. You know how Charlie can be.”
Since he’d had to go through a lengthy interview—more like an interrogation—with Foxworth’s CFO/CEO himself, Teague had all the sympathy in the world for anyone looking at their first meeting with the redoubtable Charlie Foxworth.
Quinn gave Cutter a final, roughhousing sort of rub behind both ears, then straightened up and looked at Laney.
“I can see he’s fine, and you’re not bandaged so I assume he didn’t bite you.”
Laney laughed, and Teague sensed her relax a little. “Cutter? Oh, no. He’s far too well-mannered for that.”
“That,” Quinn said dryly, “is up for debate. But if not that, what’s up?”
The “why are you here?” wasn’t spoken, but Teague heard it just the same. They didn’t bring people here unless they were already involved in their case, and Teague suddenly realized maybe he should have arranged a meeting somewhere else.
“Laney has...a problem.”
Quinn lifted a brow at him.
“One I think we could help with.”
“I see.” He focused on Laney, who had lapsed back into silence. Second thoughts? Teague wondered. Wishing she’d never agreed to this?
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding intimidated. “Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I—”
“Maybe you should just tell me what’s going on.” Quinn’s voice was gentle then, calming, encouraging. It was another facet of that ability to command, and Quinn had them in balance better than anyone Teague had ever known.
Quinn walked over to the table that was placed beside the expansive windows that looked out over the clearing to the thick stand of trees. Different shades of green marked the spots where maples and other deciduous trees stood against steady evergreens.
He cleared away some papers, closed an open laptop and slid it to one side. “Sit down,” he said, “and let’s go over it.”
Laney still looked a little nervous, and Teague guessed she was remembering how the police had reacted. She gave him a sideways glance that made it clear going through it all again for the intimidating Quinn seemed overwhelming to her.
So Teague began. In the back of his mind he’d been thinking how to present it all the way over here anyway. He managed a fairly concise assessment, and Quinn listened without comment or interrupting.
“At least you made sense out of it,” Laney muttered when he’d finished.
“Not much to go on,” Quinn said neutrally.
“I know that,” Laney said. “Believe me, I know that.”
“I thought maybe we could at least find her, make sure she’s okay, put Laney’s mind at ease,” Teague said, wondering if his first effort at bringing a job to Foxworth was going to be a miserable failure.
“And if she is, Amber will likely be so embarrassed she might never speak to me again,” Laney said. “I hadn’t really thought that far until now.”
“If she gets angry with you for worrying about her,” Quinn said, “she’s not much of a friend.”
Laney’s surprised expression told Teague she hadn’t expected that. But the cogent assessment seemed to help, because Laney slowly nodded.
“There’s one more thing,” he said to his boss. “One thing I left out.”
“What?”
Teague drew in a deep breath. “Cutter.”
Quinn drew back slightly. He glanced over to where the dog was curled up on his bed in a beam of late summer sunlight, snoozing peacefully.
“Uh-oh,” Quinn said, much as Teague had back in the shop.
“Yeah. He made it pretty clear.”
He described the dog’s actions until Quinn held up a hand.
“All right,” his boss said. And with a slight shake of his head, he added, “Then I guess we’re in.”
Laney’s startled look nearly made Teague grin.
“Wait,” she said, “you decided this because of Cutter’s behavior?”
“His
