Page 69 of Quinton's Quest

“Is that even safe?” I eyed my now very cold coffee.

“How would it be dangerous?” Quinton shook his head.

“No, Dr. Rodgers is right to be concerned.” Everett nodded, almost as if working something out in his mind.

Before I could correct him and remind him that I wasn’t his physician anymore, Rayne piped up. “You should have some kind of backup or check in system. First, see if you can get him to agree to meet. Then make certain you have an exit strategy.”

Quinton blinked. “This is Finn, guys. He’s as earnest as they come.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be dangerous. Or those around him.” Rayne tapped the table.

Still, Quinton pulled out his phone and made the call.

Twenty minutes later, we all parted company.

Rayne and Everett heading to God only knew where.

And Quinton heading to Finn’s cabin up in the hills north of Mission City.

I almost followed him.

Almost.

Instead, I went home.

Chapter Seventeen

Quinton

Finnegan O’Sullivan lived in a two-bedroom cabin in the hills north of Mission City.

As my headlights crossed the length of the house, the front door opened, and the ginger hunk stepped outside and waved.

I cut my engine and hopped out of the SUV. “It’s cold out. You’ll freeze your balls off.”

Yeah, we hadthatkind of a relationship.

“You going to warm them up?” He gestured for me to step into his house.

A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, and the woodsy smell of pine permeated the room.

Finn shut the door and then clapped his hands together. “Yeah, frigid night. I don’t use the fireplace often. Wood’s expensive and I don’t like what smoke particulates do to our environment.” He shrugged. “But some nights I just need the reassurance of a fire.” He gestured to my coat. “You’ll want to take that off if you’re staying for more than a minute or two.”

Since I was already starting to sweat, I happily removed it and handed it to him. “Somehow, I thought you’d have a dog or cat.”

He scrunched his nose. “I work those damn long shifts, and getting a dog sitter up here would be tough. When Mom and I lived up here together, we had a sheltie. When she died, and Mom moved into town, I didn’t bother to get another pet. I suppose I could have a cat, but I’d worry they’d be lonely.”

“You could always get two rescues.” I stepped toward the fire. “Man, that’s gloriously hot.” I held out my hands. “Hey, when did your mom move to town? She’s a nurse at Mission City Memorial Hospital, right?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah. She didn’t enjoy the drive in the winter and, honestly, she was tired of country living. Things can be harsh up here, and she wants soft and comfortable.”

“She’s a nurse.” I laughed.

“Yeah, well there is that. Can I get you something to drink? I have water, pop, milk, and every tea imaginable. Beer too, but—”

“Yeah, no booze. A green tea would be great.”

“Sure.” He headed toward the kitchen. This room was just one large space with the living room dominating one half, a substantial dining room table in one corner, and the kitchen against the far wall.