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That was too much. Andy couldn’t let it go. “Right, Iplannedyour breaking in here tonight. What are youtalkingabout? What the hell is thematterwith you, Marcus?”

This was the question he’d been asking for over two years. He couldn’t understand why Marcus was unable or unwilling to take responsibility for, well, anything. Any of their problems, or even any of his own actions. Eventually, painfully, he’d realized thewhywas irrelevant.

“You wouldn’t dare mouth off to me if he wasn’t standing here.”

“But Iamstanding here,” Quinn said. “And if you come back, the police will be the least of your worries.”

Gotta love that male bravado. Only Andy didn’t. He was sick to death of people who thought every problem could be solved by fists and force.

“Just go, Marcus.”

Marcus looked from Andy to Quinn and from Quinn to Andy. He gave a disbelieving laugh, and headed for the front door.

Quinn briefly gripped Andy’s arm. “I’ll be back,” he said, and followed Marcus outside.

Andy could still feel the warmth and strength of Quinn’s hand as he uneasily watched their dark figures cross the windows and disappear into the shadows. He couldn’t tell if they were arguing or just chatting loudly.

He still felt shaky and a little sick, his heart racing as though the threat was still imminent. But wasn’t it? Marcus had not left chastened. He had left because Quinn had been there.

Which… What the hell wasthatabout?

Not that Andy wasn’t grateful, but…

He jumped as someone rapped briskly on the front-door pane. In the dull porch light, he could make out a large, bulky figure wearing a heavy jacket and a baseball cap tipped low. It took a frazzled moment before he recognized the official insignia of Safehaven PD.

Police Chief Millard.

Chief Millard knocked on the glass again, sharply, and Andy moved automatically to answer the door. The night air that gusted in was bitterly cold and tasted of snow.

“Hey, Chief.”

Snowflakes dusted the shoulders of Millard’s jacket. His ruddy face was grim. “Everything okay here?” He stepped into the shop, looking warily at the stacks of china and books. He scowled at a row of glassy-eyed dolls slumped drunkenly against each other on an overhead shelf. “I just saw two guys walk out. One of them looked like Quinn Rafferty.”

“Uh, yeah.” Andy had been undecided about how to proceed as far as Marcus, but the opportunity that presented itself seemed like providence taking a hand. Or possibly yanking him by the collar. “My…ex broke in. He wanted to talk. I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

“Your ex?” Millard’s frown deepened.

“Yes. My former partner.”

Millard seemed confused, but slowly worked it out. “You mean, like your boyfriend? But then what was Quinn doing here?”

Chief Millard had been a good friend of Quinn’s grandfather, so needless to say, he had never held a high opinion of Quinn. Maybe that was why he was so focused on the least important part of Andy’s story.

“I want to file a restraining order against Marcus.”

“Okay, but what does Quinn Rafferty have to do with this?”

“Nothing,” Andy said patiently. “Quinn is making sure Marcus really leaves.”

Why was it so hard for Millard to understand? “I see. Then Quinn waswithyou when this…boyfriend broke in?”

“I…yes.” The old habit of lying for Quinn came back full force.

Andy’s assurance didn’t seem to reassure Millard. In fact, the opposite. “Hm. You’re saying you’re going to come down to the station to file what kind of charges?”

“I want to file a restraining order.”

“Against?”