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“Well…”

Andy stared.

Quinn almost sounded apologetic. “The intruder did come back, but he took off when Bok showed up.”

Andy’s lips parted, but he had no idea what to say.

“A little before five, someone came down the alleyway and seemed to be checking the windows for entry into the shop. Obviously, I didn’t want to make a move until they were actually inside.”

“Obviously,” Andy said faintly.

“But before the first subject could gain access, a second subject appeared in the alleyway. That turned out to be your pal Bok.”

“Ex pal.”

Quinn’s mouth twitched in grim acknowledgment. “When Bok showed up, the first subject faded out. I don’t think Bok ever saw him. Bok began trying windows, succeeded in prying open the middle one, and climbed in. I went in right behind him, and it was immediately clear he wasn’t interested in anything in the shop. It took him a couple of minutes to locate the staircase, so I was pretty sure he’d never been inside the place before.”

“No. I never brought him to meet Uncle C. I wanted to, meant to, but then it was…”

Pointless. Because a year into their relationship, Marcus had been fired from the police force, and everything between them began to crumble.

“Which ruled him out as your previous intruder.”

“Yes.” That had never been in question for Andy.

“He started up that staircase with purpose. I figured it would be helpful to know what was on his mind, so I didn’t try to stop him—and then you opened the door.” Quinn shrugged as though it was all in a night’s work.

For Andy, not so much. The first piece of bad news was that the intruder had returned yet again with some unknown but surely sinister motive. The second, and maybe even worse piece of news, was Marcus knew for sure where Andy was and had been willing to commit breaking and entering to get to him. And even though Andy had known for months that Marcus was not behaving normally, that he could be violent and even dangerous, that night’s actions dialed it up to eleven.

As much as he wanted to believe he’d been in control of the situation, he knew he had not. The only thing that had stopped Marcus from whatever Marcus had intended—beating Andy? Killing Andy? Incredible though it seemed, such thingsdidhappen—had been Quinn showing up when he did.

Andy nodded, swallowed a mouthful of coffee, giving himself a moment to absorb the full implications of Quinn’s recounting. He was aware that Quinn watched him silently, steadily.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” Quinn said finally.

Andy let out a long, shaky breath. “It is. It’s just…hard to believe. It’scrazy.”

“Sure.”

“And I don’t know what worries me more: the fact that Uncle C.’s assailant hasn’t given up on whatever he was after, or…Marcus.”

“Yeah, Marcus. Well.” Quinn’s eyes were very green in the muted light of the kitchen. “You’re going to have to figure out what you want to do about Marcus.”

“You said that before.”

Quinn seemed to choose his words. “Let’s just say when I walked him to his car, his attitude was not one of repentance.”

“Repentance? No. Marcus isn’t big on regrets. He used to say,Never apologize, never explain. Apologies and explanations are a sign of weakness.”

“Ugh.”

It was so heartfelt and so unexpected, Andy laughed. Honestly, there had been a time when he would have assumed Quinn shared the same philosophy.

“I think filing a restraining order is a good idea. It establishes a pattern of behaviors as well as your good faith effort to stop Marcus through legal channels. But I wouldn’t assume Marcus will comply. I’d say the opposite. A restraining order, an order of protection, any official attempt to curb him, is, in my opinion, going to have the opposite effect.”

Andy swallowed. “I know. I agree. But what are my options? Either way—”

“He could have an unfortunate accident.”