Page 90 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)
SEVENTY-SEVEN
Quinn kicked off her trainers and plopped down on the sofa, sinking deep into the cushions. “I’m never getting up again,” she said as Gabe handed her a bottle of water. Every muscle in her body seemed to be moaning with fatigue.
“Twenty boxes unpacked, one hundred to go,” he replied and sank down next to her. “Jill and Brian want to know when to drop off the children. Jill offered to keep them overnight, if we’re not ready.”
Quinn shook her head. “No need. Their bedrooms are set up, and everything else will get done in the next few days. Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know.”
“Tell me about it,” Gabe replied wearily. “If I know you, this house will look as if we’ve lived here for years by the end of the week.”
“I plan on it. Hey, want to have a party?” Quinn asked, draining the rest of the water.
“A housewarming do? Sure, why not? We have lots to celebrate. Maybe we can even combine it with Alex’s christening. Have the after-party here. We can have it catered, so you don’t have to lift a finger.”
“If you think the hostess doesn’t lift a finger on the day of her party, even if it’s catered, you have much to learn about entertaining.
But it’s a good idea. Two birds with one stone and all that.
I’d like to have Alex christened while Seth is still in London and before Jo accepts a new assignment and runs off to God-knows-where in pursuit of truth and justice. ”
Gabe considered that for a moment. “Will everyone play nicely, do you think?” He was referring to Jo and Sylvia, who had yet to meet in person, and Seth and Sylvia, who could barely stand the sight of each other given their history, and Quinn’s mum and Sylvia, who were like the biblical mothers who appealed to King Solomon to decide which one got to keep the child they both claimed was theirs.
Even Phoebe and Sylvia didn’t get on. Phoebe’s burgeoning dislike of Sylvia had turned into bitter resentment after Emma’s dramatic birthday party last August, and although both women would do their best to remain civil for Quinn and Gabe’s sake, there was no telling how long their civility would last.
“Are you suggesting I leave Sylvia off the guest list?” Gabe shrugged, implying he’d leave that up to her.
“I’ll give it some thought,” Quinn promised. “Even my brain is tired. Do we have anything to give the children for breakfast?”
Gabe sighed. “I’ll run out to the shops and pick up the basics. You rest.”
“If I were a good wife, I’d tell you to rest while I run out to the shops, but I won’t.” Quinn giggled. “I’ll just sit here for a moment.” Her eyes were already closing as she slid sideways to rest her head on a pillow. Gabe gave her a quick kiss and left her in peace.
Quinn was woken by the vibrating of her mobile in the pocket of her jeans. “Not a moment’s peace,” she grumbled as she reached for the phone and peered at the screen. There was a text from Rhys.
Need you in Ireland, the text read.
You’ve got to be kidding me , Quinn replied.
Trust me, darling, you’ll want to see this , Rhys texted back. The hotline was a stroke of genius.
A photo popped up on the screen and Quinn peered at the image, using her fingers to zoom in. She sucked in her breath as she stared at the find that had Rhys so excited. She lifted her eyes as Gabe walked into the room, several shopping bags in his hands .
“What is it?” he asked, clearly alarmed by her expression.
“I’m going to County Leitrim.”
“Like hell you are,” Gabe replied. Quinn silently handed him the phone and he stared at the image. “Is that a cross?” he asked.
“Yes, with someone’s remains still attached to it.”
“Right. You mean, we are going to County Leitrim,” Gabe said, grinning happily.
“What about the kids?”
“I guess they’re coming along for the ride,” Gabe replied as he handed her back the phone. “Emma and I are off for Easter, remember?”
“And what better way to celebrate the Resurrection than excavating what appears to be a crucifixion?”
“An archeologist’s dream,” Gabe quipped as he pulled her to her feet and gave her a sound kiss. “Suddenly, I’m not tired anymore.”
“Neither am I,” Quinn replied, returning his grin. “Let’s finish unpacking.”
See you on Monday, boss , she texted and added a happy-face emoji.