Hearts On The Line. Margaret Daley

Hearts On The Line - Margaret Daley


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determination underscored her own in situations like this, and the connection she had felt earlier between them crackled again.

      Still grasping her hand, he said, “But you don’t have to worry about me applying for your job. One officer of the law in the family is enough for me.”

      The firmness and warmth in his touch conveyed the man she had heard about from his brother, Brendan, a former police officer who had until recently worked with her. She’d casually known Quinn Montgomery from afar, but suddenly there seemed nothing casual between them now.

      “I miss Brendan at the CSPD, but he seems to be settling in at the FBI,” Becca said, trying to dismiss the feeling of interest hovering below the surface.

      “Yeah, he’s a regular Elliot Ness.”

      “Not J. Edgar Hoover?” She started down the stairs, realizing that Sarge would be waiting for her.

      “Nah, Brendan’s more a hands-on type of guy, like me.”

      “Is that why you were here? Isn’t Montgomery Construction a big operation?”

      “I like to be involved in all the projects as much as possible, especially with what has happened lately.”

      “That’s right. Wasn’t there a fire at your business a few months back?”

      “Yeah, my carpentry shop and storage barn were destroyed. A lot of things have been happening to the Montgomery family lately. It pays to keep an eye open. What’s going to happen to David?” Quinn punched the down button for the elevator.

      “He’ll get the help he needs.” She slanted a glance toward Quinn Montgomery, trying to remember all that Brendan had told her about his older brother. “Did you mean what you said about helping him with his bills?”

      He nodded. “He’ll need it.”

      “I’ve got a feeling David will appreciate it, especially when he straightens out his life.” Now she remembered what Brendan had once said about his older brother. He was a man whose word was good as gold. She liked that.

      Stepping onto the elevator, Quinn said, “I’m in your debt for showing up when you did. I didn’t know how I was going to get him down from that ledge. I’d run out of ideas.”

      “You were doing a pretty good job of keeping him calm. The important thing was that David was still there when I showed up.”

      That cocky smile reappeared. “I was afraid he could hear my knees knocking and the sound would drive him over the edge.”

      She laughed.

      He liked the sound of her laughter—light, musical, as if it danced on the air. “Seriously, if I can do anything for you, return the favor in any way, please let me know.”

      “I was just doing my job, Mr. Montgomery.”

      “Quinn, and that doesn’t mean I can’t feel indebted to you for your assistance up on the roof, Becca. David was one of my employees, part of my family.”

      She turned her head toward him, her ponytail flying to one side with the sudden movement. That drew his attention to her light-brown hair, streaked with blond coloring. Her large hazel eyes focused on him, making him aware of the small confines in the elevator. For a moment his gaze connected with hers, and he became lost in her light-brown depths with green specks.

      She blinked, stepping back a pace. “Thank you, but—”

      The elevator doors whooshed open and the noise and activity rushed in to remind Quinn of what had just transpired for the past sixty minutes. What she was about to say to him was lost as a big man in a police uniform approached them.

      “Becca, you did a good job.” The man looked toward Quinn. “I’m the team leader, Carl Johnson. We’ll need a statement from you, Mr. Montgomery.”

      “Fine. I’ll come down to the station later today.” After shaking Carl’s hand, Quinn stepped to the side, seeing his younger brother coming toward him. “Again, thank you, Becca, for your help. If you need anything, let me know.”

      As Quinn walked away, he heard the man say to Becca, “We’ll need your report while it’s still fresh in your mind. This one ended good.”

      Quinn paused to watch Becca leave with her team leader and another police officer. Quinn still could picture her big eyes, full of life even in the midst of such turmoil and potential death. Her look reminded him of Maggie. The memory of the last time he’d seen Maggie pierced his heart. He shook the reflection from his mind. He had moved on. He wouldn’t go down that path again.

      “I hear you had some action this morning.” Brendan patted him on the back. “And you handled yourself well.”

      “I told Becca Hilliard that she never has to worry about me applying for her job.” Quinn walked toward the area where he had set up a makeshift office on site. Still fresh in his mind was the first few minutes up on the roof with David. Fear such as he rarely encountered had washed through him until he had said a prayer to God for guidance. Then, as though the Lord had clasped his shoulder and stood next to him, his fear had dissolved and in its place had been a resolve to see David safely down from the ledge. He had known that everything would be all right. Not long after that Becca Hilliard had arrived as though she had been sent from the Lord.

      “You need to give a statement.”

      “I know. Just give me a few minutes. I need a strong cup of coffee and something sweet.”

      Brendan followed him into the room. “Pour me a cup, too.”

      “What brings you by?” Quinn handed his younger brother a mug full of hot, strong coffee, then filled a cup for himself.

      “Heard about the jumper and came running. Couldn’t see you going through this without me, especially with the trouble we’ve had lately. At first I thought it was connected to that.”

      “Nope. David James just lost it. His supervisor called him on being late for work. That sent the man over the edge. He flew at Collins, hit him a few times, then escaped up to the roof, where he threatened to jump.”

      “Is Collins okay?”

      “Yeah, just a cut lip and probably a black eye.” Quinn lifted his mug to take a sip and noticed his hand shaking. He placed the mug on his desk before he spilled his coffee. “How does she do it?”

      “Who? What?”

      “Becca. Negotiating.” Quinn clasped his hands together to still their trembling, recognizing the reaction as delayed shock. When he had thought David would jump, all he could think of was the man’s two little girls without their father. Thank You, God, for delivering David safely down. And thank You for sending Becca to help.

      “Ah, now it’s just Becca.”

      “Stop right there, little brother. After going through something like what happened on that rooftop together, it seems kinda ridiculous to call the woman Ms. Hilliard.”

      Brendan lounged against the file cabinet. “She has her own methods of destressing. We all do.”

      Quinn knew his brother was referring to people working in law enforcement. He’d been engaged to a woman who had been on the police force until—again his heart twisted with the remembrance of that day Maggie had died. So much for not going down memory lane.

      “You’re the boss. Give yourself the rest of the day off. I think you deserve it.”

      “So I can go over what happened on the rooftop until I go screaming down the street? No, thank you. I think I’ll stay and work.” This was one of his ways of dealing with stress. Finally, Quinn thought his hand was steady enough to pick up his mug and take a long drink of his much-needed coffee. “How’s Chloe? Have you two set a date yet?”

      Brendan chuckled. “I get the picture. No more talking about you. Chloe and I are negotiating when.


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