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“What happened? Where did you go?”
Lori let him hug her but didn’t exactly respond. “Calm down. Everything’s fine. I just went to see Chris Tipton.”
The developer’s name brought Quinn’s brain back to reality. “I see.” He dropped his arms and stepped back. “Did you steal any of his files while you were there?”
Lori’s head snapped back as if he’d hit her. Her mouth worked as if she would speak, but she didn’t say a word. The response triggered a wave of guilt that tugged at his heart, but Quinn ignored it. “You should have at least hidden it,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Why didn’t you justtellme?”
She shrugged and looked at the floor. “I thought maybe you already knew.”
Quinn drew in a deep, deep breath, pretty sure he was about to start yelling, but Ben stepped between them, hands up.
“You two can hash this out later. Lori, I need to know what happened with Chris.” He jerked his head toward his office and Lori headed for it. She walked away without one glance back.
Quinn hadn’t even noticed the other people milling around the station, but there they were, eyeing him as if he were a stranger. And he was now. A stranger in his own hometown, and apparently a stranger to the woman he was sleeping with.
Odd that this casual, meaningless affair was driving a dull stake through his chest. Determined to escape the creeping feeling that his heart was suffering catastrophic damage, Quinn headed for Ben’s office.
“It’s the pass,” Lori was saying as he walked in and closed the door behind him.
Ben glanced up at him, then back to Lori. When she didn’t protest Quinn’s presence, Ben relaxed back into his chair. “What about the pass?”
“There’s talk that it might be maintained through the winter. The state is looking at the numbers.”
“What?” Ben’s chair screeched when he sat forward. Shock turned his face to stone. “Year-round?”
Quinn leaned hard against the closed door, the logic of it hitting him like a gust of wind.
Ben rubbed his face. “You’re kidding me. Right?”
“No. It’s nothing definite yet, but there’s enough of a chance of it going forward that people are interested in my land.”
Shock melting back to anger, Quinn clenched his fists. “So someone is trying to pressure you into selling before anyone finds out that your land is valuable.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I talked to Chris Tipton, and I honestly don’t think he’s involved. He didn’t think anyone else would stoop that low, either.” She looked over her shoulder. “They’re your friends. Do you think Peter Anton or Harry Bliss or one of the other developers would trash my garage?”
Would they? He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m perfectly willing to beat the truth out of them. At the very least, they tried to fuck you over.”
Lori smiled, and the sight of it set off an echo of pleasure inside his chest. He hadn’t seen her smile in days. “Thank you,” she said. “But I’m ready to give this all over to Ben—”
“Oh, thanks,” Ben chimed in sarcastically.
“I can’t deal with this anymore. It’s too much. I’ve got to sell that land, and I’ve got to do it quickly. If you can figure this out, Ben, I’ll be free to cash in without worrying I’m selling to a criminal.”
He nodded, then quizzed Lori on which developers she’d been looking into, taking the time to chew her out for not keeping him in the loop.
“You checked out James Webster?” Lori asked without enthusiasm.
“Yeah,” Ben answered in the same flat tone. “He’s got an alibi. I’m still tracking it down, but it’s pretty solid.”
While Ben was busy writing in his notebook and Quinn was trying to rub the tension from his neck, Lori let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling. “The land deal is obviously not a decade-old issue,” she said.
Ben sighed and set down the pen. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll check it out, just in case, but it seems unlikely. I did track down Hector Dillon, by the way.”
The name meant nothing to Quinn, but Lori perked up. “And?”
