Calling on quinn, p.1
Calling on Quinn, page 1
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Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2020 by Blue Saffire
Cover and internal design © 2020 by Sourcebooks
Cover design by Dawn Adams/Sourcebooks
Cover image © Viorel Sima/Shutterstock
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
Chapter 1
Shouldn’t Be
Quinn
Rushing through the automatic double doors of the hospital, I feel the acid rising in my stomach. I swallow hard as the cool air of the emergency room blasts me in the face. It’s like I can taste my emotions. When I drag my hand across my sweat-soaked forehead, I can’t help wincing against the burn of the salty sweat that enters my wounds.
I’m not here for my injuries, but my injuries are a result of why I am here. My baby sister is somewhere in the walls of this hospital, and that’s just not right. Erin is the sweetest soul you’ll meet. She takes care of family and keeps to herself.
My brothers and I have always been the troublemakers. If there’s a fight, we’re at the center of it. The four of us—Kevin, Trenton, Shane, and myself—we’ve spent our lives running into the line of fire. Receiving a call that one of us is riddled with holes wouldn’t be a surprise. I’d be just as livid, but not surprised.
Ach, this isn’t right.
I’ve been repeating those words in my head the entire drive here. I look down at my smashed phone. My screen is destroyed. I’m not able to text my family to find out where they are.
When my mum called to tell me that Erin and her dumb-as-fuck husband, Cal, were shot up in front of their home, I blacked out. When I came to, my phone was ruined and the back window of my truck was smashed out as I flexed my busted fist. I have a bit of a temper. It’s best for me to keep my world under control so I don’t lose it.
This is completely out of my control, and I’m not coping one bit. Scanning the space around me, my eyes are unfocused and my head buzzes with too many noises and unfiltered information. Crying babies, a drunk slurring, the walkie-talkies of security—all shit I’m not composed enough to block out.
Get it together, Quinn. First, find the desk. Second, ask for Erin Kelley. Third, get to Erin and the family.
With a clear list in my head, I start to gain a minimal grasp on my focus. It’s enough to move my feet toward the desk to start barking out questions. Turning, ready to get answers, I take a step, but my attention is drawn when my name is called.
“Quinn,” my younger brother Shane calls.
I whip my head in the direction of his voice. I turn to find an identical expression to mine on a face that’s just as alike. The Blackhart genes are strong. We all have the same green eyes and dark red hair, with the exception of Trenton. He is the only one of us that has my ma’s dark brown hair and freckles.
From the look on Shane’s face, things aren’t going well. My insides start to coil tighter. I wish I’d carried my baoding balls with me. I need a way to channel some of this energy.
“Aye, how is she?” I grumble once I reach my brother’s side.
My Irish accent is a bit thicker than usual in my ire. My siblings and I were born and raised in New York, but you don’t live in a home with Renny and Teagon Blackhart and not retain some semblance of an accent.
I received my fair share of teasing in my school days. My siblings are better at hiding the brogue than I am. It could be that I don’t much care to. I’m right proud of who I am and where I come from.
“It’s not looking good. She’s still in surgery. It’s been a few hours,” Shane replies.
“Fuck,” I seethe. “How did this happen? What the fuck is going on?”
“Have no fucking clue. Whoever did this knew enough to cut the cams on the house. There’s nothing during the time of the attack. Those cameras should’ve been working. I did a check of all the systems about a week ago,” he says, a deep frown consuming his face. His accent is showing a wee bit as well.
“Ya checked the neighbor’s cams?”
“Oul man Nelson’s cams are grainy as fuck. It will take me a while to clean up the images to see anything. I’ve tried. While we’ve been waiting, I’ve been working on it,” he says in frustration.
“Where’s Ma?”
“Ya know Da. He raised hell until we got a private waiting room. Everyone’s in there. What happened to yer hand? I thought the job went smoothly,” Shane says, while pointing at my busted knuckles.
I ignore him, like I’m ignoring the throbbing in my hand. I’ll see to it later. First, I need to get to my family.
“Where were the wee ones?”
My heart squeezes. My nieces and nephew can be a handful, but I love each one of them. I couldn’t ask my ma about them on the phone. Knowing Erin was clinging to her life was enough to keep me unhinged on the two-hour drive here.
I had finished my assignment. I’d planned to head up to my cabin for the weekend. I was halfway there, only stopping for gas, when the call came in.
“They were with Ma and Da. It was their game night.” Shane pauses to run a hand through his hair and blow out a harsh breath. “Christ, I keep thinking about how they could have been there.”
“Thank God, they weren’t. Where are they now?”
“The twins are with Ma and Da in the waiting room. The wee ones are with the O’Connors,” he grumbles.
“Grand, they’ll be safe. Thomas is retired, but he’s still sharp,” I say of my father’s best friend and neighbor.
“Aye, but I’m more afraid of his wife,” Shane says with a wince.
I would laugh under different circumstances. Mrs. O’Connor used to give Shane a good lashing with her broom. Always with good reason.
“Where ya headed?”
“To get snacks and drinks for everyone. I needed to get out for a bit of air.”
“Point me to the family,” I say.
“Aye.” He nods, understanding me enough to know I need to stick to my plan.
“I’ll walk with ya,” he says.
We walk to the waiting room in silence. My head is still swimming with so many thoughts. Anger is lying on the surface ready to boil over.
“Quinn,” Ma nearly sobs as we enter the room.
She rushes forward into my arms. My mum is not as tall as my da, but she’s still tall. She’s no small woman at all. However, in this moment, she seems tiny.
I embrace her tightly. Her shoulders shake with her tears. I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to say to make this better. It’s killing me because I’m the fixer in the family.
I look at things from the angles no one else does and figure it out. My family may act annoyed at times when I have to have my lists to organize everything, but they appreciate them when I’m
“What’s the word?” I say to my da, who looks as lost as I feel.
“We wait,” he says gruffly.
“She has four babes to be here for. She has to be okay,” Ma chokes out through her tears.
“Erin is tougher than she looks. All her life she had to be, to survive the lot of us. She’ll pull through. She’s a Blackhart through and through, she is,” I murmur in my ma’s ear.
“Aye, I hope yer right. She’s still my wee un. My little lass.”
“I know, Ma. I know. She’ll pull through, and we’ll get to the bottom of this,” I reassure her.
“Ach, the bastards will be sorry, they will,” she fumes.
“Aye.”
I don’t say anything more. Now is not the time for my anger to take over. I keep my composure as I rock my ma in my arms and hold on to see what comes our way.
* * *
“This is good. We need to wait out the night, is all,” Kevin says as we step out into the hallway.
The doctor just came in to say Erin is out of surgery and stable. It’s been four hours since I arrived. We got news about two hours ago that Cal has been moved to ICU.
“Aye, it’s good. But we know what I want to talk about. What the fuck has Cal been working on?” I grunt.
“I don’t know, but I’m thinking like you,” Trenton says, sounding more like a New Yorker than any of us. “He had his hands in something he let blow back on his home.”
When together, most of us have a muddled version of our parents’ Northern Irish accent. Trenton, on the other hand, only slips when extremely pissed or trying to hide his words from outsiders. It’s clear he has had some time to calm himself, unlike me. I’m still fuming beyond measure.
“Aye, I would say so,” I reply.
“They picked the wrong fucking door to come knocking on,” Trenton snarls.
“First, get a couple of guys here. I want round-the-clock security. We’ll rotate as well. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
“Got it covered. I’ve woken a few of the boys to have them come down,” Kevin replies.
“Second, I want to know exactly what the fuck Cal was working on. I want to know where he’s been going, who he’s been with. I don’t care what ya have to do to find out. I need answers,” I say.
“We’re on it, Quinn. Don’t ya think it’s time to get that looked at?” Shane replies.
I look at my hand. He’s right. My ma fussed until I put an ice pack on it, but I refused to leave her side until now. My da got ready to roar for someone to come tend to me, but I stopped him before he could get worked up.
Ma needed us both. My da on one side, me on the other. Together we kept her from falling apart.
“Aye, I’ll go. Get me what I asked for.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Trenton teases.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not in the mood for yer faffin’. Just do as I say,” I snap, turning to walk away.
“One of these days he’s going to clobber ya,” I hear Shane say as I saunter in the direction of the nurses’ station.
“As long as I don’t end up like his truck,” Trenton says.
“His truck?”
“Aye, window is blown out. Saw it when I went out to make a few calls, put two and two together,” he replies.
“And ya want to tease the man?” Kevin snorts. “Eejit.”
“I’ll show you an idiot,” Trenton grunts.
“Get to work,” I boom over my shoulder.
I keep moving as they shut their gubs. They’re all eejits, but I love them. I’m going to find out who did this to our sister, and we’ll all make them pay.
Chapter 2
Crash Course
Quinn
I pound my feet against the pavement, sending a welcome burn up my calves. Sweat is pouring from my face and back as the sun beams down on me. It’s going to be a hot one.
My morning run is a needed part of my daily routine. Normally, I would talk to my sister for the first five miles. It’s our thing.
There is something soothing about talking to my little sister as I start my morning. After we hang up, I usually take the time to focus myself and get my lists in order. Although, there won’t be a call this morning, and there hasn’t been one for two weeks now.
There’s a lot I want to get done today, which requires I get myself organized. First, I want to head over to the police station to talk to Dugan, the police chief. He’s been a friend of the family for years. Not many on the force know he’s my godfather, and we’ve always kept it that way.
I need answers from him. I’m not getting what I need from his detectives. I know there’s some bad blood between Cal and the force, but that should have nothing to do with my sister.
Second, I have a few cases that I need to give my attention to before the end of the day. We’ve fallen behind in the office. I can hand a few security jobs off to our staff, but my brothers and I handle most of the private investigations. That will have to change for a bit. Cal is a part of the PI team whenever he’s not off getting his nose into shit that blows up in his face.
“Fucking melter,” I release a growl as my thoughts turn to my brother-in-law.
He’s looking a hell of a lot worse off than Erin. I don’t know whether to be happy she’s going to be widowed or pissed off at him for leaving her with four babes to take care of. Honestly, I pray they both pull through. My nieces and nephew don’t deserve this.
Maybe this will finally teach Cal that a hard head makes a soft behind. I know none of this has come from any case I’ve assigned him. If I find out he’s been getting into something illegal, I’m going to pull the fucking plug myself.
I pound my feet against the ground harder, allowing the burn to spread up my legs. Locking back in on my list, I bear down on what I need to get done. I’m almost back at the house. After getting some work finished up, I’ll head to the hospital. I’ll need a list for that. I have some things I need to take there.
Fresh flowers, something to eat for Ma and Da, a music dock—Erin loves music, that will be good for her—a picture of the kids for her bedside. Last on my to-do list for the day, a beer and a steak on the grill. It’ll probably be late, but I’ve been craving meat and potatoes. I have to have that steak today.
Satisfied with my list, I slow at the walkway of my home. I start to stretch my tight muscles. I’ll have my shake, take a shower, get dressed, and head out. I can call my brothers on the way to the station.
My phone rings as I map out my next steps for the morning. I frown, pulling the device from my arm strap. My frown deepens when I see it’s my ma.
I flex my still healing hand, remembering my reaction to the last call my ma made to this number. If this is bad news, I’m going to have to hold it together. I just got the pickup back yesterday. The back window was replaced. I hadn’t realized the dent I put in the same door. It had to be worked out as well.
“Hello, Ma,” I say into the phone.
“I need yer help,” she says in greeting.
“Aye, what’s up?”
“Mckenna has a driving lesson this morning. I need ya to go with her,” Ma says.
“She’s sixteen. Legally she can drive with the driving instructor,” I reply.
“Aye, but this is different, Quinn. Her mind has been on her ma. Erin has gone with her to every lesson. I think someone should ride along.”
I groan. This was not on my list. I just finalized my list. Everything will have to shift now. I wasn’t ready for this today.
“Ach, Quinn. Spare me yer damn list this morning,” she snaps.
“I didn’t say anything about my list,” I mumble back, like a wounded child.
“Who do ya think yer yarn to? I’ve been yer mum all yer life. I know yer thoughts before ya do,” she retorts.
“I know who I’m talking to,” I reply, feeling like a chastened five-year-old.
I hear her sigh and shift on the other end. She sounds tired. I’ve been meaning to help out more with the kids. Shane is the best with them, which is why I’ve allowed him to take over there.
“The chisellers need a sense of normalcy. This has all been a lot to take for them. I need ya to do this for me,” she says after a beat.
