Hearts On The Line. Margaret Daley

Hearts On The Line - Margaret Daley


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      “Don’t have the time. The fire set me back some. Having to rebuild the shop and barn as well as do all the projects we’re committed to has taken a lot of my extra time.”

      “I thought you finished the shop and barn a couple of weeks ago.”

      “Yes, but…” Quinn let his sentence trail off into the silence. He and his brother knew the real reason he hadn’t dated. Except for the few times Brendan had tried to fix him up since Maggie’s death three years ago, he hadn’t gone out with anyone. Instead, he had thrown himself into his work and his carpentry.

      “She would have wanted you to move on, Quinn.”

      “I know. I am. Colleen has a friend at the paper she wants to introduce me to. I’m thinking about taking her up on her offer once she returns from Italy for her wedding.”

      The second Quinn said that, however, an image of Becca up on the rooftop, totally focused on David, calm and in control, popped into his mind. There’s something about Becca Hilliard that—no, don’t go there. Her job is as dangerous as Maggie’s was, and Maggie’s job killed her.

      TWO

      Becca took the stairs up to the attic and opened the windows at each end of it to let the cool breeze blow through and the stale air escape out. She had a few minutes before Quinn showed up and she wanted to find her sister’s box of memorabilia to send to her. She’d been promising her for months, and if she didn’t do it now, she would probably forget for another month—especially since her younger sister had just called asking her to send it to her.

      Amazed that she still didn’t have the time to do the things needed—after all, both her sister and brother no longer lived at home—Becca headed for the corner where Caitlin had kept her belongings. Her two siblings were gone, so why couldn’t she find enough time to do all that needed to be done?

      “Because I have now decided to finish my college degree in psychology on top of trying to solve the rash of recent murders. What did I expect?” she muttered to herself as she dug through the boxes for the one Caitlin had described. Being married to her job didn’t allow a lot of extra time.

      In the very back, perched on a rafter, she saw the black square box with her sister’s treasures. Becca stretched over the containers piled in her way. Just a few more inches. She leaned farther forward, lost her balance and started to fall. With quick reflexes, she managed to catch herself by putting her hand down on the rafter while her foot came down hard in the area between two beams. The unfinished part of the floor held for a second, then suddenly her foot plunged down through it, the jagged edges of the wood ripping through her capri pants and digging into her thigh. Pain shot through her.

      She swung her leg that dangled from the ceiling in the third bedroom on the second floor, hoping to give herself some momentum to shove herself up out of the hole she was caught in. She couldn’t dislodge herself. She examined the area around her for something to use to drag herself out. Nothing. Frustrated, she slapped her hands on the two rafters, the only firm support around her, and pushed upward. Her leg, caught on something, wouldn’t budge. Again, then again, she attempted to free herself as the pain continued to radiate up her leg.

      Finally, in exhaustion she sagged against the wooden beam. Sweat dripped off her face and coated her white shirt. She took a moment to regain her strength while she ran through different scenarios in her mind. The only thing she could come up with was to keep trying and hope eventually sheer force would dislodge her.

      The ringing of her doorbell cut into the sound of her heavy breathing. Quinn Montgomery. Maybe her knight in shining armor had arrived—not that she believed in such a thing. She’d learned earlier to depend on only herself and her work with the police department had only confirmed that through the eight years she had been on the force. But she was a practical person and right now she needed help.

      The chimes sounded again.

      “Quinn! Help!” she yelled, hoping he heard with the windows open. “Help!”

      “Becca…” She heard his wonderful, deep voice calling up to her through the window. “Where are you?”

      “In the attic. I fell through the floor and can’t get out.”

      “How do I get in? Do you have a spare key outside somewhere?”

      The very thought appalled her. Why make it easy for a robber to get into her house? She’d be the butt of jokes at the police station for weeks. “No. My neighbor on the left has one.”

      “Be right back.”

      Even though help was on the way, Becca gave it another try, hating the idea she was trapped in her house, helpless, depending on another for rescue. Still, all she managed to do was press the jagged pieces of wood into her flesh even more. She bit down hard. She hoped she wasn’t bleeding all over her grandmother’s quilt, which covered Caitlin’s bed. Granny would roll over in her grave if she was.

      Moments later footsteps pounded up the stairs to the attic. She inhaled in a deep, calming breath, and nearly choked on the dust she’d stirred up. She sneezed, releasing one hand to rub her nose. She must look a wreck with sweat-drenched clothes covered in the dust and dirt from the floor. So much for second impressions.

      “Becca?”

      Realizing the mound of boxes hid her from his view, she called out, “I’m over here.”

      Quinn peered over the stack and, with a sharp gaze, assessed the situation with a quick sweep. “Okay?”

      “Except for being embarrassed for putting myself in this position, I’m fine.”

      Quinn hefted the boxes out of the way until he could kneel next to her, careful to keep his weight on the rafter he balanced himself on. The worry on his face touched her. For so long she had always been the one who had worried about others. She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone concerned for her.

      “I’m adding this to the long list of projects that need to be done around here. This attic flooring needs to be completed.” She patted the beam next to her. “I definitely don’t want to be in this predicament again.” This would now be number one on her least favorite things to happen to her, even before encountering snakes, which she had a healthy fear and respect for.

      Quinn grinned. “Probably should be moved up to the top of your ‘to do’ list.” He felt around the edges of the hole.

      “I’m caught on something.” She breathed in a whiff of his aftershave and for a few seconds the scent of pine filled her nostrils.

      “I’m going below to see if I can push you up through the hole. Do you have a stepladder somewhere?”

      “In the garage.”

      “I’ll be right back. Hang on.” He rose, chuckling. “No pun intended.”

      “Oh, I’m not going anywhere,” she said with her own chuckle.

      She was sure when she was free she would laugh about this and probably tell the guys down at work about this little adventure—well, maybe she wouldn’t go that far. But right now all she wanted was to hide in the bathroom, wash off the dirt she’d picked up from the floor and change clothes. What a sight she must be! There was a part of her that was amazed she even cared, but she had felt a connection with Quinn the other day that had intrigued her.

      In the past she’d had little time for a serious relationship with the opposite sex what with raising her siblings and trying to establish her career at the police department as well as go back to school to finish her degree. She only had another year of part-time college to earn her psychology degree, then she wanted to work on her master’s. She couldn’t see herself being a police detective forever, especially considering how hard it was for her emotionally to shake some cases. She wanted one day to be a counselor. That was why she had joined the negotiation team. That and—

      So lost in thought, she gasped when she felt Quinn’s hand on her


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