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“Yeah.”
“So why not ask him?”
“I had thought of that. I’ll speak to Sebastian after this. In truth, I want to avoid going to that particular group for anything right now.” He would if it was the only avenue left, however, it wasn’t his first choice. He’d rather commit a felony, which they were currently doing.
“Because they’re trying to recruit Peyton?” Grady guessed.
“Yes. I’d like to get through this without owing them anything.” He wanted to avoid them being able to use any favours as leverage to force Peyton to work for them. If Peyton himself decided that he wanted to take the offer, then Quinn would deal with that. But to have it be taken out of his hands because of Quinn’s investigation? That was unacceptable. It had to be a choice that Peyton made uninfluenced.
“Fair enough.”
There wasn’t anything of interest in the kitchen, so they split up to search the rest of the two-bedroom house. Grady took the bathroom, and Quinn went to the bedroom. He wasn’t picky, and Grady always enjoyed snooping in medicine cabinets.
He checked under the bed first. It shouldn’t have been a relief that there wasn’t another dog hiding under the bed since he should have already known. None of the doors had been closed; if there were a dog, it would have come at them already.
He checked through all the drawers. It was all run-of-the-mill clothing, nothing of interest. Clear around the bed and nothing in the sheets. Same with the wardrobe that looked like it was on its last legs and had to have been built in the 1800s.
“For a bunch of criminals, they are boring as fuck,” Grady said, entering the room.
Quinn looked up from where he was crouching in front of the bedside table, looking through its contents. “Nothing at all?”
“Not unless you need some haemorrhoid cream? It’s okay, you can tell me.”
“Even if I did”—which he didn’t—“I wouldn’t use someone else’s.” There were certain items that werenotshareable, and surely that was one of them?
“If I didn’tknowthat a piece-of-shit criminal lived here, I wouldn’t have picked it out,” Grady said. “Even my place has more life than this.”
“That’s not a fair comparison.” Grady had a nice place with Mal. The owner of the rental knew their way around a renovation and had done up the kitchen with an impressive setup. And Grady was better at decorating and colour coordination than he would ever admit or agree with.
“I said what I said.”
Quinn stood with a sigh. Had this all been for nothing?
“Two more rooms to search,” he said, hoping that there wassomethingin either of the rooms to make this venture into a life of crime worthwhile.
They searched the rooms together and didn’t find anything.
Quinn ran a hand through his hair, tugging it lightly as his gaze darted around the lounge once more. Howell either had a cleaner or had been a neat freak or a minimalist. Or both. Nothing out of place.
A distinctcreaksounded, and Quinn grabbed Grady’s jacket, putting a finger to his lips. Grady frowned and tilted his head.
Quinn moved quietly to the wall, flattening himself against it before pulling out his Glock 22.
Grady followed suit and mouthed, “What?”
“Back door,” Quinn mouthed back, pointing in that general direction.
Someone had come in the back door. It wasn’t a sneaky door to come through. Maybe that had been Howell’s level of defence. Like putting hanging tins up to rattle when intruders walked through them.
Grady’s face hardened, and he gave a sharp nod.
They both froze as they heard distinct, heavy footsteps in the kitchen. There was a small hallway between there and here, and thank fuck for fully boarded floors. There was no chance of sneaking in this house. Unless you were barefooted, maybe.
Grady gestured towards the bedrooms. There was a hallway that looped around, giving them two ways to the kitchen. Quinn nodded and then peered around the small corner carefully.
Clear. The intruder was still fucking around in the kitchen. It sounded like they were opening and closing cupboards. Were they looking for something as well?
A curse rang out, accompanied by a slamming cupboard door. There was no response and no second set of footsteps. One person.
