TWELVE

Meredith stood by while Mo checked her 4Runner for bugs. It came up clean. “This makes no sense. Why put a location tracker but no listening device?”

Mo moved on to check Gray’s Explorer and his own Jeep, but Gray stayed by her. “I don’t know.” He sounded ... sad? Defeated? Angry? A toxic mix of all three? “We’re shooting in the dark. We have no way to know when the devices were planted. It could be that they planted both on the van while you were at Mrs. Frost’s house. They might have planted the one on your car while it was in the parking lot at your office at any time. Maybe they only had one listening device they could keep up with. I don’t know.”

Meredith tried to stay angry with Gray. She had every right to be. He’d snapped at her like she was a toddler with no sense, and he kept treating her like she was a brainless twit.

No. That wasn’t entirely accurate. He believed her when she told him what she’d seen, heard, and suspected. And there was no mistaking that his outburst had been motivated by concern for her safety.

It was hard to stay mad about that. But she was going to try.

Mo gave both vehicles the all clear. They loaded up and drove the few miles to their houses.

Cassie wasn’t home, and she wouldn’t be there for hours yet. The Friday dinner shift at The Haven was always a busy time for her. The thought of cooking over and over again had never appealed to Meredith, but Cassie had been happiest in the kitchen since she was no bigger than Eliza and Abby.

And it wasn’t like she could comment. She was a dentist. Definitely not a profession for everyone. Most people couldn’t fathom what had driven her to pursue dentistry or why she loved it so much.

Meredith parked her 4Runner in its usual spot in their carport, climbed out, and waited by the firepit for Gray and Mo. Mo pointed to the houses. “Let’s check here first. I called Cassie earlier and asked her if she’d mind if we walked through her place. She said that was fine.”

“Let’s start with Meredith’s.” Gray didn’t wait for them to agree or disagree but walked straight to Meredith’s porch.

“Sir, yes, sir.” Meredith didn’t try to hide her sarcasm, but it fell on deaf ears. Gray was a man on a mission and didn’t react.

Ten minutes later, he’d morphed into an angry man ready to tear the world apart. The tiny listening device on the scarf she’d left draped over the back of a chair mocked all of them. Mo motioned for everyone to talk normally, and Meredith did her best.

“Did I tell y’all what Mrs. Frost told me?”

“There’s no telling.” Mo sounded a little grouchy, but he usually did, so maybe whoever was listening wouldn’t notice. Especially since they couldn’t see how his mouth had pinched to the point that little white lines formed along his lips.

“She claims that fifty years ago, one of Mrs. Staton’s cousins, or maybe it was a sister? She was a little vague on the relation. Anyway ...” Meredith followed Mo and Gray as they finished the scan of her living room and moved toward her kitchen. “She claims that one of them ran off and joined an actual circus.”

“Fifty years ago? That was the 1970s. Did they have circuses you could run away to in the ’70s?”

“No idea. This was Mrs. Frost’s story. I wasn’t expecting accuracy.”

“Fair point.” Mo motioned for them to be still while he checked her bathroom.

Meredith had a moment of panic. If they’d bugged her bathroom, she ... well ... she had no idea what she would do. It was so violating. Her home was her safe place. Her sanctuary.

Mo came out of the bathroom, gave them the all-clear signal, and then motioned for Meredith to keep going with her story.

She found her voice again and continued. “Anyway, she said that this girl disappeared, no one heard from her for a few months, and then she sent a postcard from New York that told them she was having a blast.”

“Did they look for her?” Gray gave her a dark look. “I’m not going to love this story if it’s going to add a cold case to my files.”

“Oh, that’s the best part. She sent regular postcards for the next two years and then sent them a wedding announcement. Not an invitation, mind you. Mrs. Frost was quite clear that this was the big news in this story. She didn’t invite them to her wedding, just let them know it had already happened.”

“Scandalous.” Mo had finished downstairs and climbed the steps to the small loft area first.

Meredith and Gray waited for Mo to scan the area. When he came back down, she continued. “Mrs. Frost claims that this cousin-slash-sister is still held up in their family as the archetypal black sheep.”

“I’m sure.” Mo took the opposite stairs to her bedroom. “Why did she feel compelled to tell you this?”

Meredith held her breath while Mo walked around her room. She couldn’t see him, but she could picture him waving his device over her bed, nightstand, bookshelves, and television.

The space was small compared to a lot of bedrooms, but it was perfect for her. She loved it, and when Mo gave her a thumbs-up, she could have cried in relief. Instead, she finished her tale. “According to Mrs. Frost, this girl didn’t run off alone.”

“No?”

“Nope. Mrs. Frost claims she ran off with Aunt Melissa.”

Mo gaped at her.

Gray’s expression shifted from angry to confused. “Who is Aunt Melissa?”

“She’s Dad’s sister. She came between Aunt Laura and Aunt Minnie.”

“There’s another one? I’ve never met her.” Gray frowned. “I’ve never even heard of her.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t talk about her much. It makes Granny cry. And Minnie remembers her and gets very upset when she doesn’t show up for family events.”

“Does she ever show up?” he asked.

“No. We’ve never met her.” Meredith included Mo in her statement. “As far as I know, once she left town she never came back.”

Gray turned to Mo. “Do you know where she is?”

Meredith understood the question. Mo could find people, and there was no way he wouldn’t have tried to find her. And, of course, he had.

Mo’s response was a short nod. “She’s got two kids. Boys. No husband. Don’t know if the boys have the same dad or not. They’re younger than we are, but not by much. I reached out to her. Gave her contact info. Told her the family would love to see her.”

“Not interested?”

“Apparently not. And the thing is, it’s not like she doesn’t know where we live. Papa and Granny Quinn haven’t moved. The town’s still here. She could come home if she wanted to.” Mo cut his eyes at Meredith. “But the circus angle didn’t come up in my research.”

“It may be completely bogus.” Meredith followed both men back to the firepit. “You know Mrs. Frost. She’s getting confused. It might have been true. It might have been a rumor. It might be that she combined a couple of different stories into one.”

Meredith dropped her cheery storytelling persona as soon as they reached the firepit. “What do we do about it?”

Mo looked at Gray.

Gray heaved a frustrated sigh. “When did you last wear that scarf?”

Meredith didn’t have to think about it. “Monday. Aunt Minnie always comes to work in the front office on Mondays. We walked to the restaurant for lunch. I always walk with her. The only time we drive is if it’s raining. She needs her exercise, and a quarter-mile walk in the cold won’t hurt her. Or me.”

Meredith dropped her head and then threw it back to stare at the sky. “I took off my jacket and scarf and put them on the back of the chair when we went to order. I had Aunt Minnie with me, so you can imagine the scene. We talked to a bunch of people while we were in line.”

“It would take the merest brush to deposit a bug like that on your scarf.” Mo saw the same problem she did.

“Exactly. It could be anyone. And if it’s that easy? They could have done it while I was walking down the street.”

“Maybe, but I like the restaurant for this.” Gray considered his words but seemed comfortable with the assertion. “And you go there for lunch most Mondays. I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume that anyone who’s been paying attention to your routine would know they’d have a chance to get close to you.”

Meredith leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, and took deep breaths like she’d just finished running a race.

“What is it?” Gray knelt beside her. “Meredith?”

“I took the phone call from Mrs. Frost in my living room. They would have heard me tell her I was coming.”

Gray couldn’t stop himself from taking Meredith’s hands in his. “Breathe.” She did as he said, and he squeezed her hands. “That’s it.” When she paused, he urged her again. “Breathe.” When she took several breaths without prompting, he stood up and used the motion to pull her back into a standing position. He didn’t release her until Mo stepped up to her and pulled her into his arms.

“They really are coming after me.” She spoke into Mo’s shoulder, but Gray heard the broken words.

“They can’t have you. You’re a Quinn, and Quinns don’t negotiate with terrorists. We don’t sit by when our neighbors are being abused and violated, and we don’t back down when things get tough.” Mo spoke to Meredith, but his eyes were on Gray.

Gray got the message. The Quinns would rally around Meredith. They would do whatever they had to do to protect her. And while her personal actions might have precipitated the attention of the criminal element in Neeson, the entire family would move heaven and earth to get to the bottom of it.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Meredith shuddered, and Mo squeezed her tighter.

Even though it would have been the polite thing to do, Gray didn’t give them privacy. He didn’t look away. He didn’t try not to overhear. He didn’t think he could have made himself move even if he wanted to.

“I know.” Mo patted her back. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Meredith snorted.

“It might not have been wise, baby sister, but it wasn’t wrong. You acted in love. You took a chance because you couldn’t pretend the problem wasn’t real. You’re a force for good, and good will prevail.”

“It doesn’t always.” Her argument held an edge of defeat that Gray couldn’t bear to listen to.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t keep fighting.” Gray placed a hand on her back. “If more people refused to look away when they saw wrongdoing, the world would be a much better place.”

Meredith twisted in Mo’s arms and narrowed her eyes at Gray. “An hour ago, you were furious with me.”

“I’m still furious with you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t admire you, and it doesn’t mean that I’m not in awe of your courage.” He leaned closer. “And I agree with Mo. Good will prevail. There are other forces at work to change things in Neeson. You aren’t alone. And while it’s good that your family has your back, you have a lot of other people behind you too.”

“What are you talking about?” Mo asked.

“I’ve been worried about Neeson since I got here. And I have friends on task forces that deal with things like this. When I found Meredith’s fuel line cut on Wednesday, I made a few phone calls and got some balls rolling. Then when I heard about the other activities in Neeson tonight, I went outside and made a phone call to the person in charge of the overall investigation. She’s the best federal agent I’ve ever interacted with. She has a solve record that makes her a rising star at the FBI. She could be at their headquarters by now, but she doesn’t want to leave Raleigh.”

“Do I know her?” Mo asked.

“You might.” Gray considered his words and then added, “You definitely have mutual friends.”

Mo nodded in understanding and didn’t press for more information.

Gray patted Meredith’s back and stepped away from them. “Let’s go check your shop. I really don’t think we’ll find anything there, but let’s clear it from our possibilities. Then we can decide what to do about your scarf.”

“Okay.” Mo kept his arm around Meredith’s shoulders but turned her so they could walk down the small path that led to the shop she shared with Cal. Gray walked beside them. “I still think we should check my house and Cassie’s.”

Neither Mo nor Meredith seemed to need a flashlight, but Gray didn’t feel as confident about taking a walk through the woods in the dark. He turned on his phone flashlight and kept it trained on their path. “I don’t expect them to have planted anything in your homes, but they could have gotten something on some of Cassie’s clothes.”

“A scarf...” Mo trailed off.

“Yeah. It’s diabolically brilliant. She’s not likely to throw it in the wash, she could have it in her car, in her office, her home, or wrapped around her neck while we all sit around the firepit and talk.”

Meredith let out a tiny moan. “What if I’d worn it Wednesday?”

“But you didn’t. We can’t get caught up in the what-ifs and should-haves. We have to stay focused on what we know and what we can control.”

Meredith leaned into Mo, and no one spoke while he opened up Cal’s side of the shop, turned on the lights, and then stepped back.

Gray didn’t need an invitation. He stepped in, weapon drawn, and cleared the space. When he nodded at them, they went to Meredith’s side and repeated the process.

Then while Gray and Meredith watched, Mo scanned her shop. It came up clean. “I’m going to scan Cal’s side. Be right back.”

He slipped out the door, and Gray was left alone with Meredith. She walked over to a flower arrangement that even his untrained eye could see was a crime against floral design.

“This”—she pointed to a random piece of what might have been a weed—“is all thanks to you.”

“I’m not sure that’s a flattering statement.”

“Oh, but it is. I’m having a blast designing it. When I’m convinced it can’t be any worse, I think of something to add that will make it even more awful.” She touched a petal, then twisted it around so he could see the full effect. “I was thinking I’d work on it tonight. Maybe finish it. But I don’t think I can. I need to make something beautiful.”

She walked to the far wall where shelves were filled with tubs of paper-thin wooden flowers. “I used to make every single flower by hand, but that became too time-consuming and completely ruined all my profit margins. I found places I could buy the types of flowers I use most often in bulk. Now I only make the truly unique blossoms.”

Gray walked over to stand near her. She opened the lids of several tubs and removed multiple stems. “They’re all cream.”

“I dye everything.” She pointed to the long table covered in dyes and pigments, and a sink that looked more like a kaleidoscope than the stainless steel that peeked out randomly from under all the colors. “Which means I can make flower arrangements to match any decor, any outfit, any style. I can make any shade of green or pink or orange, and I love playing around with different tones. Sometimes I’m in the mood for a riot of color. Sometimes I want the soothing peace of twenty cohesive blues.”

She opened a book and flipped through it. It was a photo album of her designs. She paused on one and tapped her finger on it. “What do you think of this one?”

“It’s my favorite. I walk by it every day.”

She stepped away from the book. “I didn’t think you noticed it.”

“I notice everything.”

She huffed out a small breath. “Yeah. I guess you do.”

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“Not bad. But frustrating.”

He threw his hands up. “Why is that frustrating?”

She mimicked his hand gesture. “Because you notice everything. If you’re choosing not to act on something, it isn’t because you’re clueless. It’s because you don’t want to.”

Mo chose that precise moment to come back. He glanced between them and said, “Everything’s clear. I’m going to walk back and check my place and Cassie’s. Just to be safe.” And he was gone.

Meredith turned her back to him, but not before Gray caught the way she wiped her finger under her eyes.

“Meredith.”

“What?” There was a tiny quaver in her voice. She sniffed, cleared her throat, and faced him with a cheery smile.

If she’d been angry, he might have been able to keep his distance. But she was so brave. So strong. She’d been put through so much hard stuff tonight, and she was trying to smile. He couldn’t leave her confused or hurting over something when it was in his power to ... what?

He couldn’t fix it. Would clarifying help? Maybe not. But would it make things worse? Before he’d made up his mind, his mouth took the decision out of his hands. “Just because I don’t do something doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. Sometimes I do want to. Very much. But I can’t.”

“Can’t?” Meredith moved toward him until they were only a foot apart. “Or won’t?”

He shook his head. “Both.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Care to share?”

Had she moved closer?

“No.”

“Maybe you should.” She gave him a small smile. “I could tell you if your reasons are valid.”

She was definitely closer.

He took a step away, and the hurt that flashed across her face short-circuited his brain. He didn’t remember deciding to reach for her. He had no idea when his feet moved. Or when he rested his hand under her chin. But he did know that once she was in his arms, there was no amount of logic or reason that could stop him from leaning his face toward hers.

Had she closed the final inches or had he? His lips moved across hers, and he confirmed things he had long suspected. Her lips were soft. Her kiss did scramble his brain. And her body was a perfect fit against his.

He also discovered things he hadn’t known, like the way Meredith tasted of chocolate and whipped cream and the way her skin warmed under his touch. And when she let out a soft sigh against his lips, he learned that it was possible for a woman to make him forget his own name.

Eventually, he remembered who he was, where he was, and who he was with, and he also remembered why he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing. He broke the kiss and took a step back.

Meredith’s eyes were closed, and when they opened, the way she looked at him would haunt him for the rest of his life. There was so much ... no. He wouldn’t even let himself think that word. But the joy and excitement, the smile on her lips, the flush on her cheeks, all of it faded when he increased the distance between them.

“Gray?” The confusion and hurt cut through the last haze of desire and idiocy.

“I’m sorry, Meredith.”

“Was it that bad? I’ll admit I’m out of practice, but I thought—”

“No. It—”

“Cassie’s place is clear.” Mo’s voice crashed through the moment. “My house is too. We need to decide what to do with the scarf.”

Meredith turned her back to them. “You decide. Burn it. Bury it. Throw it in the wash and drown it. I don’t care. I’m going to stay here and work for a while.”