The door opened. Evelyn stood there, wearing a pale yellow linen shirt and gray slacks, the shirt slightly cockeyed, the only sign the outfit had been hastily pulled on. She raked her hand through her white bob and fixed Jack with a killer glare.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Visit," he said. "Owed you one, right?"
"Not at five o'clock in the goddamned morning."
"Six."
"Get the hell in here, before I catch pneumonia."
Her sharp eyes followed Jack as he entered, sliding down to his feet. "I thought you had another two weeks in that cast."
"Changed my mind."
"And yes, I tried to stop him," I said. "But it was help or let him do it himself and risk hacking off more than the cast. Apparently, it was hampering his ability to help me with the case. My case, may I point out, which I was perfectly happy to investigate alone while he rested."
She snorted and took my jacket. "Rest and Jack are two words that don't belong in the same sentence. Hol ing up in a backwoods shack isn't for him – as lovely as it may be." Her look said she doubted lovely was the word. Evelyn had made it clear from the start that her opinion of my primary occupation wavered between "how quaint" and "my God, why would someone actually choose to live like that?"
She continued. "He was probably climbing the walls… though not as frantically as he was in that motel room. Much longer in there and he'd have chewed off his cast." A glance my way. "How bad was it?"
I remembered the state of Jack's motel room. "Let's just say a mild case of cabin fever had set in."
"Mild, my ass."
She led me into the living room, where Jack had already claimed his usual end of the love seat. He jerked his chin, telling me to take the other, which I would have done anyway – my only other options being the two hard-backed postmodern pieces or Evelyn's armchair.
"I told you he'd follow you home," she continued as I crossed to the love seat. "I'm sure he put up a token struggle, of course. Probably went something like this: 'I'm fine. Nah. Fuck, yeah. I'm fine. Go on.' Then he let you get… oh, about as far the parking lot before he limped out after you, deciding maybe, since you'd come all that way, and since you were offering, he might as well go with you. He offered to pay, too, didn't he?"
Jack tensed, preparing for Evelyn's inevitable crowing about how well she knew him.
"Pay?" I lowered myself onto the love seat. "Damn, I gave in too fast, didn't I?"
"I'll pay," Jack said. "Just didn't want to mention it."
"Oh, I'm kidding. You know I wouldn't take your money."
The briefest flicker of consternation glimmered in Evelyn's eyes. If I felt any guilt at lying just to prick her ego, it was wiped out by the equally quick flash of gratitude in Jack's.
"Coffee?" he asked, pushing to his feet.
"Yes, please."
"You might as well round up breakfast while you're in there," Evelyn said.
A grunt. As he disappeared through the kitchen door, his voice rolled back to us. "Update her, Dee."
In other words, don't give her a chance to make her offer until he was in the room. I told her about our appointment and thwarted break-in.
"So we'll try again tonight," I said. "If Quinn's here, he can roust the guy and stand guard."
"Quinn? What's Quinn got to do with this?"
When I fell into silence, she twisted to look toward the kitchen.
"Did you forget to mention something, Jacko? Or someone?"
He appeared with two coffees. I mouthed "I'm sorry" while Evelyn still had her back to me. He shrugged, crossed the room and handed me my mug.
"Go on," he said. "Tell her."
"Tell her…?"
"Everything."
Meaning I should go all the way back to how Quinn first became involved – his unexpected arrival at the lodge and the reason for it. Jack gave Evelyn her coffee, then returned to the kitchen.
"Jesus Christ," Evelyn said when I said Quinn knew who I was. "And you didn't skin that boy alive, Jack? You're getting soft."
"Honest mistake," Jack called from the kitchen.
"You don't think it is?" I asked.
She sipped her coffee, considering. "Quinn's too much the Boy Scout to do anything that underhanded. And he's smart enough to know that if he did, Jack would skin him alive."
I told her the rest, how Quinn was now helping and due to join us soon.
"And Jack's fine with that?" she said, brows lifting. "Quinn sniffing around? Wriggling into your case?"
"He's not thrilled about it, but we could use Quinn's law-enforcement know-how and if he's offering – "
"Oh, I bet he's offering. Since day one, that boy's been panting after you like a junkyard mutt smelling his first bitch in heat."
"Colorful…"
"But true."
I eased back into the seat, cupping my mug. "Whatever Quinn's motivation, we gave Jack the final say, and he agreed."
"Making Jack now, officially, the first professional killer ever to aspire to sainthood via martyrdom."
"I know hanging out with Quinn isn't Jack's idea of fun, but all he has to do is say no – "
"Hear that, Jack?" Evelyn swiveled, leaning over the side of her chair to yell toward the kitchen. "All you have to do is say no."
Silence returned.
"So, back to the break-in – " I said.
"Dee? Would you be a sweetie and feed the girls for me?"
"Uh, sure…"
"Their food is on the basement landing and their bowls are outside. You'll need to take them out and watch them. Make sure Scotch gets her share. Ginger's been bullying her again."
"Okay…"
"I'll help Jack with breakfast."
Chapter Thirty-six
When I fed the dogs, I noticed their water bowl had a pair of flies doing the backstroke. So I dumped it and looked around for an outside tap, but couldn't find one. I glanced at the back door. Evelyn had obviously kicked me out so she could talk to Jack, presumably give him shit for letting Quinn onto our case.
Ginger stopped eating, looked at where her water bowl had been, then up at me. When I didn't return her bowl, she lapped rainwater from a groove in the deck.
"Okay, okay," I said. "But if she gives me shit for interrupting, I'm blaming you."
I opened the screen door and lifted my hand to knock. Then I glimpsed Jack's shoulder and arm through the dining room doorway. He was shrugging, talking to Evelyn in the living room again.
I decided knocking would be more of an interruption. Just slip in and get the water. They'd hear me filling the bowl, so I clearly wasn't eavesdropping. It wasn't as if I'd been ordered to stay outside.
I stepped in, prodding Ginger back out as I quietly closed the door.
Evelyn was talking. "Bad enough you don't give that boy a smack upside the head."
"Boy?" Jack snorted.
"I don't care how old he is, he sure as hell doesn't act it. He's like a teenager, chasing after Nadia, barging in on your investigation."
Yep, arguing about Quinn. I headed for the sink.
"Didn't barge in. I invited him."
"That's my point, you dumb fucking Mick. You're not just letting him poach on your turf – you're opening the gate and inviting him in."
Evelyn had a point. Me working alone with Quinn was one thing. Bringing him in on this meant I was exposing Jack to an unnecessary risk.
I reached for the tap.
Evelyn went on. "Why don't you just hand him a bouquet of roses and a box of fucking condoms while you're at it, Jacko?"
"It's not like that," Jack said.
"No? Nadia is yours, and it's about time you had the balls to do something about it."
Did Evelyn think Quinn was trying to shoulder Jack aside as my professional contact? Had Jack mentioned the Toronto job, leading her to think Quinn and I were partnering?
"Don't start," he said.
"Why not? You obviously won't. You were taking your time. Fine, I understand that. God forbid you should commit yourself to anything before you've checked out every angle, made absolutely sure the water is warm and safe. Then Quinn leaps in with a splash that sends you flying out of the fucking pool. But still, you're not worried. Big splash, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. By the time you blink, it'll be gone. She'll go home, forget him, and there won't be so much as a ripple to show where he'd been. So now – " A pause. "Where are you going?"