Page 89 of Playing with Fire

Someone wanted me. Quinn wanted me. Quinn wanted me enough he sent his angel grandfather chasing after me so I could be human so he could hold me. I wasn’t alone.

Audrey was wrong.

Quinn kissed my hair. “I can live with that. How are you feeling?”

“I think you gave me a headache talking about procedures. Do all police chiefs have couches in their offices? Oh. You’re Chief Hollands, right?” My struggle to sit up ended when Quinn wrapped his arms around me and pinned me to his chest.

Okay. I could live with being trapped in his arms, no problem. If I never had to move, I could live with that, too.

“Yes, I’m Chief Hollands. Your husband and I were just reviewing the situation and trying to come to an agreement over which departments would handle which parts of the investigation. I think we’ve agreed the Vermont State Police will handle the primary investigation with the cooperation of the NYPD. I don’t think your husband’s very happy with this.”

“Of course not. He’s a control freak and a busy body.”

My mouth kept getting me into trouble. Quinn’s laughter rumbled in his chest. “I can’t say she’s wrong.”

“Tell me what happened. I’m missing eight days.” I hated the waver in my voice.

Quinn squeezed me, dropping another kiss on top of my head. “It’s all right, Bailey. Nothing is your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have been with you.”

“Oh, yes. You should have been with me so you could be easy pickings. Door went pop, lights went out. Your lights would have gone out, too.”

Quinn sighed. “Damon, you have your notepad ready? I’m not going to want to go over this twice tonight.”

“Notepad and recorder are ready. Give me the whole story so we can put an end to this bullshit.”

The thought of two police chiefs cursing and acting like bad boys made me giggle. “Today on Cops…”

“Bailey, you’re ridiculous. You comfortable?”

“Never better. Talk, talk. I want to know what happened.”

Eight days had gone by in a blink from my perspective, and I couldn’t imagine what those days had been like for Quinn. I could guess; judging from the way he held me, he had no interest in letting me go anytime soon. If I got my hands on Audrey, I’d wring her scrawny little neck before popping a transformative pill and trampling her into a fine paste so she’d be easy to scrape off the concrete and dispose of so no one would ever find her.

“All right. It began several years ago.”

Chief Hollands cleared his throat. “How many years ago?”

Quinn sighed again. As the one used to asking the questions, I suspected he loathed the scrutiny he faced, forced to detail every moment with his unfaithful wife. “Six as of October. I have a rather mixed heritage, part of which is angelic. As a result, I’m incapable of remaining with a disloyal partner. I’ve been assured by my grandfather there are exceptions. Being influenced by an incubus is one of them. I’m incapable of remaining with an intentionally disloyal partner.”

“Intent matters.”

“Exactly. Due to my heritage, I knew Audrey was unfaithful. We’d been married for a little over three years when she started cheating on me, and it went on for a few months before I decided I needed to get out of the relationship. At this point, I’d known Bailey more by reputation than anything else. I first heard of her while she was studying for her CDC certification and knew she had a knack for finding things—or people. She often found them with disastrous consequences to the involved parties, something that had factored into my decision ask for her help. Of course, since the consequences often had legal ramifications, I knew more about her tendency to stir up trouble than she probably liked. I contacted her, gave her a camera, and asked her to check into Audrey’s activities.”

I scowled at the memories. Quinn had been, as always, devastatingly handsome, adored by just about everyone, and so out of my league it hurt. How had my league changed to be his league? However it had happened, I wasn’t letting him get away. “Audrey was stupid. She thanked me for getting her out of a so-called terrible relationship.”

Quinn shrugged. “I guess I asked her for the one thing she couldn’t give me.”

“Her loyalty? Seriously? She needed to bang every guy on the block when she was married to the hottest man in Manhattan?”

“Your wife apparently adores you, Chief Quinn.”

My husband sighed. “You know the most eligible bachelor lists? Someone thought it would be funny to name me Manhattan’s Most Wanted Bachelor, playing off the fact I’m a cop. I married to escape the title, and the instant I divorced, I made the list again.”

“It’s true,” I confirmed. “I’m pretty sure he has a rap sheet full of incinerated panties. He walks by and panties spontaneously combust.”

Quinn laughed. “Bailey!”

“What? It’s true.”