Carla Neggers - Breakwater

“Sounds complicated,” Huck said, easing toward Travis Lubec.

“Don’t listen to her,” Sharon said. “Oliver and I are a team. Oliver, call off the hits you ordered. The feds are fumbling in the dark, wondering who we are. Don’t give them a reason to pursue us until we drop dead of old age.”

Quinn could see Oliver losing patience. “How close do you think the feds are to figuring you out?”

Sharon scowled in disdain. “Not as close as they think.”

Huck leveled his weapon on Lubec. “How about this close, princess? Lubec-hands where I can see them. I’m a federal agent. Another federal agent is behind Joe Riccardi, armed with an MP5. You do not want to make a move for your weapon.”

“Fuck you both,” Lubec said.

Sharon Riccardi turned white. “You son of a bitch, Boone. You liar.”

Huck disarmed Lubec of a gun in a shoulder holster and an assault knife in a sheath on his ankle. On the sofa, Lattimore sat frozen, but Quinn could see he had a good grasp of the situation and didn’t believe she’d turned into a vigilante.

From the hall door, Joe Riccardi said calmly, “ Sharon wears a twenty-two on her ankle. Crawford isn’t armed. He believes only his subordinates should have weapons.”

Diego Clemente stepped past the retired army colonel and lifted the hem of Sharon Riccardi’s long, rose-colored skirt. “I have the proper permits,” she said coldly. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Lattimore cleared his throat, staring at Huck. “Who are you?”

“Deputy U.S. Marshal Huck McCabe, sir.” He nodded to his partner, who had moved to pat down Oliver Crawford as a precaution. “That’s Deputy Clemente.”

“What about Kowalski?”

“He’ll be here shortly.”

Lattimore, who obviously had used up any reserves, collapsed against the back of the sofa, his face blank as he stared at his former college roommate.

“Thank God.” Oliver Crawford’s hands shook as he held them above his head. “Boone-whatever your name is. I knew you couldn’t be on the same side as these crazy bastards. I had a vague idea what Sharon was up to, but no details. She had me kidnapped. I had to draw her out into the open. Quinn and I played along with her vigilante line-”

Before Crawford went any further, Diego arrested him and read him his rights.

“Quinn?” Huck kept his eyes on Lubec. “You okay?”

“Still smarting from Sharon ’s slap. I haven’t been hit that hard, ever.”

“You’ve been in the bay again?”

“Kayaking.” She thought a moment, then continued, steadier. “Alicia sealed evidence in a waterproof bag and hid it in the water under the osprey nest out by my cottage. The medication she was taking. And pictures-pictures of illegal weapons and explosives.” Quinn glanced at Joe Riccardi. “You gave them to her.”

Riccardi’s nostrils flared slightly. “Alicia said she’d get them to the right people. I didn’t know-” His eyes filled with tears. “I never should have used her that way. I didn’t want to tip off Sharon and Crawford I was onto them-I wanted to get as much evidence against them as I could. I only knew about the illegal weapons and their extreme views-not the rest of it. The kidnapping, the torture and murder.”

“You thought you could help,” Quinn said.

“We wanted to nail them, Alicia and I. They suspended shipments of illegal weapons. They knew someone was getting close. I thought if I bided my time…” He sighed heavily, drained. “I never thought they’d kill Alicia.”

Kowalski arrived. In minutes the place was flooded with federal agents. Joe Riccardi sank onto a chair, buried his face in his hands and cried.

Sharon Riccardi spit on her husband as Huck placed handcuffs on her.

After he turned Sharon over to another federal agent, Huck stood next to Quinn and smiled. “You’re still red where you got smacked.”

“She’s lucky I can’t shoot. If I could-”

“You can’t shoot, sweet pea, but you sure can talk.” He winked at her. “You did great. You kept them off balance, and you kept yourself and Lattimore here. You isolated the situation as best you could.”

Quinn nodded. “What about Nate Winter, Juliet Longstreet-the people Crawford sent his killers after-”

T.J. Kowalski answered. “They’re fine.” He smiled. “You okay, Special Agent Harlowe?”

She managed a smile. “What happened to Steve?”

“On his way to the hospital,” Kowalski said. “He wants to cut a deal, but he doesn’t know half of what you’ve figured out. Lubec has pictures of him and a congressman’s fifteen-year-old daughter.” The FBI agent made a face, disgusted. “Yeah. Can’t wait to see those.”

He pulled Huck away, and Quinn shivered, suddenly aware of how cold she was. Diego Clemente appeared at her side and put a blanket over her shoulders. “ Cashmere,” he said. “Ollie’s going to have quite a comedown when he gets to prison.”

“He and Gerard-”

“Not such good friends after all.” Diego tilted his head back, eyeing her. “You and McCabe, huh?”

“I might just be a fling,” Quinn said. “A stress reliever.”

“Stress reliever? You, Harlowe?” He grinned. “I don’t think so. Wait until you meet Huck’s family. You two need to spend a few days at the McCabe family hotel. The towels are something.”

Quinn tucked her hands under the blanket, trying to get warm. “I want my office and normalcy.”

Huck joined them and gave her a skeptical look. “Sure you do.”

Two weeks after he’d watched one of his longest friendships implode in front of him, Gerard Lattimore talked Thelma Worthington into letting him into the headquarters of the American Society for the Study of Plants and Animals. Thelma no longer trusted him, with good cause. Oliver Crawford, Alicia Miller, Steve Eisenhardt-Gerard was bad luck. If he hadn’t had on blinders, he would have seen what was going on sooner, and Quinn wouldn’t have almost been killed herself. For certain, she’d have been spared the trauma of the past month.

Quinn wasn’t one to wear blinders.

Thelma sniffed at him. “Quinn’s on her way down. She’s just back from Quantico.”

“How’s she look?” He hadn’t seen her since Breakwater.

“You can judge for yourself.”

Ten seconds later, Quinn glided down the stairs, wearing a suit, her hair shining. Gone were the strain and the intensity, the sheer determination he’d seen in her as she’d kept Oliver Crawford and Sharon Riccardi focused on each other, exposed the lies they’d been telling each other and everyone else. And kept him alive. If he’d gone back to his boat, Huck McCabe and his crew would have been scooping him out of the bay in pieces.

“Quinn,” he whispered, kissing her on the cheek. “How are you?”

“Doing well.” She smiled, standing back. “Almost back to normal.”

“I’m not sure I know what normal is anymore.”

“It’s a word that has to be redefined from time to time. You? How are you doing?”

“All right. It’s still a day at a time.” He glanced at Thelma, who didn’t pretend she wasn’t listening in, then turned back to Quinn. “I’ve resigned from Justice. I’m taking a job at a law firm in Los Angeles. A fresh start.”

“I hope it’s a good one for you,” Quinn said.

“My wife and daughters-” He broke off, collecting himself before he lost it completely. “They’re coming with me.”

“Gerard, that’s wonderful!”

“I don’t know if it’ll work, but what happened in Yorkville woke me up. I wish I’d had an easier awakening, but at least I’m trying to make some positive changes in my life.”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “Good luck.”