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Andy stared. Quinn was probably joking…but given recent events, it certainly wasn’t random.

“Having a museum curator on the team could be a useful thing.” It sounded less like a statement and more like a suggestion.

“Well, maybe you’ll find an out-of-work curator, but I love my job.”

Quinn considered Andy’s expression and tone. He dropped his playfulness, said briskly, “In that case, we need to focus on getting you back to work ASAP.”

Yes. More than anything in the world, Andy wanted his old life back. His safe, secure, sure, a bit boring sometimes, but still mostly satisfying old life. But even as the thought formed, Andy knew that chapter had closed. Marcus himselfhad ended the promise of their relationship. And that promise—the promise of loving and being loved, of true companionship—had been important to Andy. On top of that, he’d had to take emergency leave from the job he loved, and who knew for how long that position would be waiting for him. And he had no idea if his uncle, the only family member he truly felt connected to, would even make it to Christmas. Hell, the way things were going, he had no idea ifhe’deven make it to Christmas.

He said automatically, “Everything depends on Uncle C. After I file that restraining order, I’ll stop by the hospital and talk to his doctor again. I don’t like leaving it up to Clark and Fleur to watch over him.”

Quinn’s brows drew together. “What’s that mean?”

Andy shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“You must have something on your mind.”

“I don’t trust their…intentions.” He added quickly, “But I’m probably not being fair.”

Quinn looked thoughtful. “Do you suspect Clark and Fleur of masterminding the break-in?”

Leave it to a CIA agent. Former CIA agent.

“What? No. That’s pretty Machiavellian for Clark. And probably Fleur. But I gathered from Clark that they’re struggling financially and were counting on becoming Uncle C.’s business partners. Or something like that.”

In fact, that was the least alarming scenario Andy could imagine. He couldn’t help suspecting Fleur of privately wishing Uncle C. off this mortal coil so she could take control of Time in a Bottle.

Even so, hiring someone to stage a break-in in order to get rid of Uncle C.? No.

Besides, it was obvious from the subsequent break-ins at Time in a Bottle and Miriam Labelle’s house that someone reallywas searching for a mysterious something—maybe diamonds?—they believed to be hidden in a snow globe.

“Is that a likely scenario?” Quinn asked. “I don’t remember Clark being around much in the old days. In fact, I always thought Clark—”

“Always thought Clark what?”

Quinn’s green gaze was speculative. “I always thought Clark was behind those burglaries. Back in the day.”

“Clark?”

Quinn shrugged.

“He wasn’t behindallthe break-ins.” That was probably a little pointed, but…seriously?

Quinn’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not the break-ins. The burglaries.”

After a moment, Andy conceded. “I wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t have thought so. I never heard any rumors to that effect.” Stealing money from the petty cash had been more Clark’s style. “But I haven’t been back in four years. Things change. It seems like whatever differences Uncle C. might have had with Clark have been patched up.” Andy sighed. “He’s of an age where he did need help. Did need family nearby. I was nowhere to be found.”

“You’re doing everything you can now,” Quinn said.

That was about the best that could be said, but yes. Andy was doing everything he could to make up for not being there when Uncle C. had needed him.

Quinn speared the last bite of sausage. “I’ll drop you off at the shop so you can pick up your car. I want to get eyes on Bok. Then I’ve got a couple of things to follow up on.”

Andy nodded. He knew Quinn wasn’t putting much faith in that restraining order, but he had to start somewhere.

Quinn added, “If I can’t locate Bok, I’ll let you know.”

A piece of pancake seemed to lodge in Andy’s throat. He said around it, “Okay. Thanks.”